THEWORSTGUYKATECANTERBARYVESPERPRESSCONTENTS
Beforeyoudivein…
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Epilogue
AlsoByKateCanterbary
AboutKate
AcknowledgmentsThisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsaretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously,andanyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,businessestablishments,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.
Copyright?2021byKateCanterbary
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Eightweeksofforcedproximityisalongtimetohatesomeoneyou’retryingnottolove.
SebastianStremmeldoesn’tneedanotherheadache.HehasenoughofhisownwithoutSaraShapiro,thenoisynewreconstructivesurgeon,stompingallaroundhissurgicalwingwithherchippy,chirpycheerfulness.
ButSebastiandoesn’tusuallygetwhathewants.
NoonegetsunderhisskinlikeSara–somuchsoaheated“debate”andanexamroomleftinshambleslater,theylandthemselvesineightweeksofhospital-mandatedconflictresolutioncounseling.Nowthey’reforcedtofightfair…whichquicklyleadsthemtoplayingdirtywhennoone’slooking.
Theyknowit’samistake.
Theypromisethemselvesitwillneverhappenagain.
Theysweartheygotitoutoftheirsystems.
Theydidn’t.
Author’sNote:Grumpy/recoveringpeople-pleasersunshine.Introvertsattract.Enemies-to-loversintheworkplace.Banter,bicker,andbutton-pushingforeplay.Don’ttellthefriendgroup,getjealouswhenthefriendgrouptriestofixherup.
Heat:ripherclothesoffbeforeyougetthefrontdooropen.
CW/TW:chronicillness,absent/negligentparents,historyofdisorderedeating.forthemessiestgirlsBEFOREYOUDIVEIN…
Ifyouneedsometunestosetthevibe,checkoutplaylistforTheWorstGuyonSpotify
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Mydickwaslanguishing.
I’dlearnedthatwordrecently.Languishing.Notdepressedbutnotthriving.Justdriftingalong,oneunsatisfieddaymeltingintoanother.
And—beforeyougetthewrongidea—thiswasn’taperformanceissue.Iperformedbeautifully.IalwaysrosetotheoccasionandIstayedstandinguntileveryonewassatisfied.MostmorningsIawoketofindmyselfatfullsalute,wrenchedoutthequickestflashofgratification,andthenwentbacktofeelingnothing.
Withthebitteraftertasteofthatthoughtinmymouth,Ikickedthebedsheetsawayandrolledmyheadtotheside.Glaringoutthewindowfeltright,seeingasmyviewconsistedofabrickwallandahazysliceofearlymorningsunlight.Iunderstoodeverythingaboutthatwall.Hardasfuckandnotadamngoodthingtobedoneaboutit.
Languishing,tobesure.
Noneofmyusualvicesdidthetrick.Thereusedtobeatimewhenthemerementionofcollegecheerleaderswasenoughtogetmeoff.God,Imissedbeingtwenty-four.
Mostpeopleassumedmyfascinationwithhardcorecompetitivecheerleadingwasabouttheskirts.Itwasn’t.Thosecompetitions—theoneswheretheytossedsmall,weigh-nothingwomenintotheairlikepermanentneurologicaldamagewasnobigdeal—chilledmethefuckout.Cheerleadingwastomewhattruecrimepodcastsweretowomenwithattachmentissues.Also,Icouldn’ttearmyeyesoffthebases.Therewassomethingabouttheirthick,powerfulthighs.Theyallhadthem.Ofcoursetheydid.Youcouldn’tlaunchaladyintospacewithoutsomerock-solidquadsandtheyhadthem.Fuck,didtheyhavethem.
Iwantedtoliveinaworldofpear-shapedwomenandwearthosethighsasearmuffseverynight.Everydamnnight.
Wantingitdidn’tmeanitwouldeverhappen.
Theprimaryreasonforthatwasthegapingholewheremyinterpersonalskillsshould’vebeen,theholeIwascertainI’dhadfromtheearlydaysandwhichhadwidenedovertheyears.IlivedasolitarylifeandIlikeditthatwayforreasonsIwastoohardandmiserabletoenumeratethismorning.ThefactIhadagroupoffriendsatallandtheycontinuedtorequestmypresencewasacuriosityIstilldidnotunderstand.Iassumedthey’dadoptedmeassomesortofwonkymascot.
Thesecondaryreason—notfardisconnectedfromthefirst—wasIdidn’tenjoypeopleandIreallydidn’tliketheminmyspace.Ifthereweretobeearmuffsinmylife,I’dhavetohaulmyselftotheearmuff’sapartment.ThatsoundedgreatatfirstbutIknewitwouldbecomeahassle.Myworkhourstendedtowardunpredictable—traumasurgerywasapainintheasslikethat—andthereweremanydayswhenIcamehometoofriedtoformwords.AsmuchasIlikedtheideaofasexualrelationshipconceivedwithouttherequirementofspeaking,Iknewthatwouldn’tlast.Itcouldn’t.ThedaywouldcomewhenI’dhear—barely,sinceherthick,gloriousthighswouldcanceloutmostsound—heraskaboutmyday.Or,godforbid,she’dwanttotalkaboutfeelingsortheunholycurseofwhereisthisgoing
Thatledquitenaturallytothefinalreasonthatnothingsomiraculouswouldeverhappentome:Ididn’tknowhowtokeeppeopleinmylife.Icouldgiveallthebeardridesinthistimezonebutthatdidn’tchangethefactIwasforty-twoyearsoldanddidn’tknowhowtomakeanyonestay.Mymotherwastheonlypersonwho’deverstuckaround.MylittlesisterVivitoo,butitwasn’tasthoughshe’dhadmuchofachoiceinthematter.
So,hereIwas,withmylanguishingdickandsuddenapathyforcollegiatecheerleaderswiththunderthighs.
Notthatmydickruledmylife.Itdidnot.Hell,Ididn’tknowwhohadthetimetolivethatway.MaybewhenIwasinmytwenties,grosslyself-involvedandcapableofengaginginsocialactivitiesafterwork,butIcouldn’tdothatanymore.Thesedays,mylifewenttohellifIdidn’tgetatleastsevensolidhoursofsleepanight.
MaybeitwaswrongbutIwasmoreinterestedinchasingagoodnight’ssleepthanapartnerforsomeearmuffaction.Justdidn’tseemliketherewasanypoint,andIknewthatdidn’tmakesense.Notthatanyofthismadesense.Alotofthingsweregoingrightinmylifethesedays.Ididn’thaveanyreasontobeso…bored.
Thingswerefinally,strangelygoodformeandIwasmoreunsettledthanever.Ihatedthatfeeling.Itwaslikemyskinwastootightandthesuntoodimandeverypassingminuteasecondtoolong.
Everythingwasoff,andmydick,theoriginalcanaryinthiscoalmine,hadfigureditoutbeforeIcould.
Rude.
WhatthefuckdidIhavetobeunhappyabout?Whycouldn’tIbecontentwiththehandfulofdecent,functionalthingsIhadinthismiserable,brokenworld?Whycouldn’tanyofthisbeenoughforme?
Ishiftedawayfromthewindowwithalong,obnoxioussigh.Enoughofthatwhining.Ihadtogetreadyforwork.Ididn’thavetimeforthis.Emergencysurgerydidn’tcarewhethermydickwasinhighspiritsornot—andthatwaswhythiswasthegigforme.Ididn’thavetothinkaboutmyselfatall.
***
Mylifelookedalittlesomethinglikethis:surgicalon-calls,sleep,research,complainingabouttheweatherinthisdark,frigidmarshlandofMassachusetts,huntingforgoodavocados,collegecheerleading,clinicalcare,deathmarchrunningsessionswithmypart-timesadistfriendNick,hatingeverything,third-wheelingitwithNickandhiswifebecausetheyweretheonlypeoplewhotoleratedmeonaccountofmevocallyhatingeverything,migraines,andcoveringforothersurgeonsinmypracticewho,unlikeme,wentplaces,didthings,andenjoyedthecompanyofothers.
AndthatwashowIfoundmyselfworkingatwenty-four-hoursurgicalon-callshiftbecausesomeoneelseinthepracticewasgoingtoaweddingorvacationingorsomeothernonsense.Whenthesestormsofmyownstupidityarose,IalwayssworeupanddownIwouldn’tcoverforanyoneeveragain,andthenIprayedthelastfewhourswouldn’tblowupintoamassiveshitshow.
Todaywasoneofthoseshitshowsbutinsteadofwaitinguntilthelasthoursofmyshifttoblowup,itstartedtheminuteIarrived.Iwastoobusytonoticehunger,exhaustion,anything.Surgeryhadawayofputtingthosebasicneedsonthebackburner.
Allthesame,thelasthourswereadamnmess.Allofmyresidentsandtheirinternswereslammed,Icouldn’tfindmyfellowanywhere,andeverytimeIclearedonesurgeryconsult,anothertwosailedin.Itwastwohourspasttheendofmynever-helping-another-colleague-againmarathonshiftandIwasjammingthroughthelastofmychartswhenIheard,“Stremmel?IsStremmeldownhere?”
TherewereseveralreasonsIhungoutintheemergencydepartment,butchiefamongthemwasIcouldalwaysfindaquietcornerwhereIwouldn’tbedisturbed.Itwasthenoisiest,mosthecticspotintheentirehospitalcomplexbutcalmcouldalwaysbefoundinchaos.
Exceptrightnow.
Iknewthatvoice.Ithadbeenburnedintomybrainonadailybasiswithallofherperky,peppyscreechesof“Hellothere!”and“Goodmorning!”and“Haveagoodone!”
Mygod.ThelastthingintheworldIneededwasaconversationwithSaraShapiro.I’dsoonerflingmybodyintotheCharlesRiverandwaitfornaturetodoitsworstthanwillinglysubmittoaconversationwiththereconstructivesurgeonwholivedinmyapartmentbuildingwhileIwasoperatingonzerominutesofsleepinawholefuckingday.
MaybeIwasfragileasfuckbutIrequiredafullnightofsleepandaprotein-packedbreakfastbeforedaringtolookherintheeye.Ihadtobepreparedforher.
TheexamroomcurtainclatteredalongitsrodasShapirowhippeditback.“Dr.Stremmel.I’dlikeawordwithyou.”
Withaquickglancestartingatthefloor,Itookinheryellowsneakers,navyscrubpants,andt-shirtannouncingVaccinesCauseAdults
Thatmuchwecouldagreeon.
Ireturnedtomycharting.“Byallmeans.”
“Didyoustapleafaciallaceration?”
“I’vebeenheresinceeightyesterdaymorning.I’vestapledalotofskininthattime.I’mgoingtoneedyoutobeahellofalotmorespecific.”
Sheletoutahuff,liketheaggravatedlittlenoisethatpuppiesmadewhenyoudidn’tgivethemthepreciseformofattentiontheywanted.“Female,agetwenty-eight,orbitalfractureand—”
“—aperforatedbladderandinternalbleedingfromanMVA.Yeah.”I’dworkedonherandanothercasefromthatmotorvehicleaccidenttwelvehoursago.Itfeltlikeit’dbeentwelvedays.“Whatabouther?”
Sara’sgriponthecurtaintightened.“Youstapledherface.”
Ipeckedatthekeyboardforamoment.IwasshitatdictationandIdidn’tbelieveinusinginternsasscribessothatleftmetowriteupmycases,whichIdidwiththemostspecific,detailednotestominimizetheriskofaresidentcallingmeinthemiddleofthenightwithaquestion.WhenIwalkedoutthedoor,Iwasgone,andIwasn’tlettinganyonepullmebackinuntilitwasmytime.“Suredid.Shewasn’tinapositiontoloseanymorevolumeanditwasmycalltoaddressthelacpre-operatively.”
Sarahuffedagain,andthoughIdidn’tseeit,itcertainlysoundedlikeshe’dstompedherfoot.Iwatchedherpushherblack-rimmedglassesuphernose.Shedidn’tweartheglassestoooftenwhichwasforthebest,itreallywas.Theymadeherlooklikeshewasinspectingsomethingandneverpleasedwithherfindings.Herblondehairwasupinaponytailwithafewloosetendrilstrappedbehindthearmofherglasses.Thosewispsweredarkerthanthehairsweptupintotheponytail,almostbrown.Andcurly.Iwentbacktothekeyboard.
“Doyouhaveotherquestionsoristhisit?”
“Youstapledherface,”sherepeated.
Thistime,ametallicwhinesoundedfromthecurtainrod.Shewasstillyankingthedamnthing,herknucklesshiningbackatme,bonyandwhite,asherfisttightenedonthefabric.Herhandswerepetite,herfingersslim.Perfectforplasticsurgery,Iwassure.Shewasthesubstantial,sturdykindofsmall—short,compact,couldprobablybeattheshitoutofapunchingbag—andsheneededastepstooltoreachthetableintheOR.
I’dnevernoticedherhandsbefore.Wesaweachotherinpassingallthetimethoughitwasusuallyherbig,messy,blondebunthatcaughtmyattention.Couldn’tmissit.Wemovedinthesamegroupoffriendstoothoughwerarelytalked.Icouldtellshewasabruiserbehindallthatoutwardsunshine.She’dbeniceashellbutshe’dcutyouifyoucrossedher.
NotthatIcared.
IsparedheraglanceasIreturnedtomynotes.OnelastcaseandthisannoyingconversationtogetthroughbeforeIwasdonewiththisplaceforthreewholedays.“Isupposethisisaninefficientwayoftellingmethat—asfarasplasticsisconcerned—staplesarenotthestandardofcareforsuchacase.”
“I’mtellingyouthatyourstapleswereclumsyandcareless.”
Ijerkedmyheadup.Iwasn’tannoyedanymore.NowIwaspissed.“Idoubtthat.”
“Youdoubt—”Shestoppedherself,herlipspressedtighttogetherandhershoulderssharplikeshewouldn’ttoleratemyresponse.Shestoodtall—orastallasalittlebitlikehercould—herfeetanchoredashoulder’swidthapartinastancethatsaidfuckaroundandfindout
Igaveherasolidminutetofinishthatsentence.Whenshedidn’t,Isaid,“Istaplelacerationsallthetime.Ifwe’reabletocleanitup,wedo,butwe’realsoawaretheycanwaituntilwe’vesavedthepatientfromdyingonthetabletomaketheirsuperficialinjurieslooknice.I’msureyoucanagreeit’smoreimportanttostopahemorrhageorpreserveorgansystemsthanwaitforplasticstoputafacebacktogether.”
Hereyesflashedasshedrewinabreath.“Doyouknowanythingaboutskin?Orsuturing?Orhealing?Because—”
“Especiallywhenthere’sanorbitalfractureinvolved,”Icontinued.“Isn’tthattheentirereasonforplasticsandreconstructivesurgery?Toputthingsbacktogetherafterthelife-threateningprioritieshavebeensorted?”
“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?”
“Manythings,butmytreatmentprioritizationhasneverbeenoneofthem.”
Shewould’vecontinuedhertirade,ofthisIwascertain,ifshehadn’tdeliveredanotherferalyanktothecurtain.Insteadoffurtherdebateastothehierarchyofinterventionswithtraumacases—andwhetherIknewmyshit—shetorethecurtainfromitsclipsanddislodgedtherodfromtheceilingintheprocess.
Whatcamenextwaspureinstinct.Ididn’tthinkaboutmyactionsatall.MaybeIshouldhave,butifstoppinganddeliberatingoversplit-seconddecisionswaspartofmybrain’swiring,Iwouldn’tbeatraumasurgeon.IfIwasn’tatraumasurgeon,Iwouldn’tbehidingoutinthisexamroom,arguingabouttreatmentplanswiththisscreechowlofaplasticsurgeon.
Iwouldn’thavesprungoffthegurneyandpushedheroutofthewayastherodfell,alongwithtwoceilingtiles.
Iwouldn’thaveflattenedhertothefloorwhentherodhitametalproceduretrayandsentitcartwheelingintoaninteriorwindow,wheelsfirst,whilethesuppliesstationedonthattrayraineddownoverusandtheunmistakablesoundofslowlyshatteringglassfilledtheroom.
Iwouldn’thavestayedthere,inthatsmall,half-hiddenexamroom,withmybodycurledoverSaraShapiro’sandahandholdingherheadtomychestwhiletheglasscrumbledfromthewindowcasing.
AndIdefinitelywouldn’thaveyelled,“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?”whileahalfdozenemergencydepartmentemployeesrushedintowhatwasleftoftheexamroom.CHAPTER2SARA
Noonecouldkeepagoodbitchdown…butthatdidn’tmeanshewouldn’tenduponthefloor.
Thetwo-hundred-oddpoundsofmanontopofher,well,thatwasnotpartoftheplan.
Thecodegreenlockdownoftheemergencydepartmentwasn’tonthelistfortodayeither.
NeitherwastheformalreprimandfromtheChiefofSurgeryortheoversized,unnecessaryconsequencehedishedout.
Sometimes,bitchesovershotthemark.Sometimes,theymadeamess.
Theproblemwithbeingasavage-heartedbitchwhowasalsoarecoveringpeople-pleaserwasthatIstillhadthe“pleasuretohaveinclass”goodgirlwanderingaroundinsidemyhead.Ondaysliketodaywhenshecouldn’tdecidewhethertositinthecornerandpanicordrownmeinahighlightreelofmyall-timeworstmomentsuntilIwasforcedtoadmitIwasagiantfuckingfuckup,itwastoughtofindthetruth.
Reprimandsandconsequences,thosethingsdidn’thappentome.Notrulycompulsivepeople-pleasingperfectionisteverfoundherselfinthekindoftroublethatcamewithfingerwagginganddeeplydisappointedfrowning.Peoplelikeme,we’dsoonercondenseourselvesdownintosmallerandsmallerparticlesanddisappearaltogetherthanlandinasituationwherewewerestraightuptoldtoourfragilelittlefacesweweren’tgoodorrightorenough.
AndyetIwasfurious.Iwasbreakshitandscreamfurious.
“Itwouldbegreatifyoucouldsitdownforasecond,”AlexEmmerlingsaid,holdinguphersurgical-glove-cladhandstostopmypacing.Thewomen’schangingroominsidetheattendingsurgeon’sloungewasn’tbigenoughforanyrealpacing,thoughitwasadequateforsomeabruptmarching.“Justsitdown,babe,andwe’llcleanupthosecutsandmakesureyoudon’thaveanychunksofglassinyourarm.Ithinkitwouldalsohelp”—shemotionedupanddownherchest—”tobreathealittle.”
Thegeneralsurgeon—andmyupstairsneighbor—gesturedtothesofabesideher.Ididn’twantto,butIsat.ItwasthatorpacemywayintoapanicattackandIreallydidn’tneedtocallmoreattentiontomyselftoday.
“I’mfine,”Isaidtoherassheliftedmyarmforinspection.“It’snothing.Allsuperficial.Nothingworthnoticing.”Iwincedatthedriedbloodstreakedfrommybiceptomywrist.“Itlooksworsethanitis.Youshouldseetheotherguy.”
Shebroughtagauzepadtomyupperarm.Itwastheonespotthathadn’tbeencoveredbySebastian’sconsiderablemass.Hewasobviouslyabigguy—tall,broad,allthosefunthings—buthe’dfeltlikeaslabofsolidmuscleoverme.Itwasexcessive,really.Hehadenough.Afullheadofdark,thickhair—norecedinghairline,nodignifieddustingofgrays.Adeep,duskyolivecomplexionthatseemedimpossibleconsideringhespentmostofhiswakinghoursincold,windowlessrooms.Ajawthatmanagedtobebothscruffyandsharp.Worstofall,he’dbeengiftedanoutrageoussetofeyelashes,thekindthatdidn’tlookrealbutwhenyousawhimupclose,youknewtheywereabsolutelyrealandhewasmerelytherecipientofheapsuponheapsofphysicalgifts.ItwasexcessiveandIknewwhatexcessivelookedlike.MyfatherwasthetopplasticsurgeoninSouthernCalifornia.Excessputmethroughmedicalschool.
“Ididseetheotherguy,”Alexsaid.“He’stheonewhosentmeuphere.”
“Why?”Iwailed,somuchlouderthannecessary.
“Becausehe’sbusydiggingglassoutofhisownarm,”shereplied.
“ButIneedhelpdoingit?”Iblewoutanaggravatedbreathandfrowneddownatmyt-shirt.Itwasrippedinafewplaces,bloodiedinothers.Iwouldn’tbeabletowearitagain.Nottowork.“Sorry.Ignoreme.”
AlexwasthelastpersonIneededtoyellattoday.Ididn’tneedtoyellatheratall—wewerefriends.Weweren’tbestieswholivedineachother’sbackpockets,althoughnotforanylackofpocketingattemptsonAlex’spart.IwasexcellentwhenitcametohavingasmallcrewofclosefriendswhoIknewwellenoughtobeselectedasabridesmaidintheirweddingsthoughnevercloseenoughtobethemaidofhonor.Iwasterribleatthebestiething.Ijustdidn’tunderstandhowtoletanyoneintothatmuchofmylife.
“Believeme,Iam,”shesaid.“Ihavesomeresidentswhowanttolearncompassionateholds.I’llpagethemuphereifIneedtorestrainyou.”
See?Thiswaswhywewerefriends.ShecouldjokeaboutthesethingsandIcouldlaughinresponsebecausewesharedahumorthatwasasdarkasdirt.
Iwatchedasshediscardedanothergauzepadintoametalbasin.Itsparkledwithtiny,tinyflecksofglass.“Istilldon’tunderstandwhyStremmeltackledmelikethatbackintheexamroom.”
“Becausethat’swhathedoes,”shesaidwithalaugh.
Iglancedather.“Throwpeopleacrossrooms?Thebruiseformingonmyassisnojoke.”
“Hetakescareofpeople.”ShesaidthisasifIwasextremelydense.“He’sprobablyfurioushemissedthisspotonyourarm.”
“We’retalkingaboutSebastianStremmel?Theonewholivesintheapartmentaboveyou?”
“Oneandthesame,”shemurmured.“You’dhaveabetterfeelforhimifyouspentmoretimewiththegroup.”
Anotherreasonweweren’tonthebestfriendtier:Alex’ssocialbatteriesfaroutlastedmine.Shelovedmeetingupfordrinksafterwork,parties,brunches,dinners,farmersmarketvisits,allofit.Shewantedtogoplacesandseepeople,andIneededaweektorecoverfromasingleouting.
Mostdays,sheatelunchwithStremmel,CalHartshorn,thecardiothoracicsurgeonwholivedinmyapartmentbeforeIdid,andNickAcevedo,theneurosurgeonwho’dlivedinthebuildingafewyearsago.IfIdidthatmuchpeoplingeveryday,I’dbecatatonicwithintwoweeks.Itwasn’tanexaggeration,itwasmynervoussystem.
“Idon’tmakeahabitofhangingoutwithpeoplewhocondescendallovermyspecialty,”Isaid.
“Sorry,honey,butyoudonow.”Shedroppedashardofglassintothebasin.“Atleastforthenexteightweeks.”
***
Sebastian
Ipressedtheheelsofmypalmstomyeyes.“Thisisn’tevenmyfault.”
“Areyousureaboutthat?”NickAcevedoaskedashedistributedsandwichesfromthedeliverybag.Aftertheshitshowinemergency—andthefalloutintheChief’soffice—he’ddraggedmetotheparkacrossfromthehospitalcomplexwiththepromiseoflunch.
“Onthisspecificoccasion,IamonehundredpercentpositiveIdidn’tcreatethisproblem,”Isaid.“I’mjustpickingupthetabforit.”
“WhatdidtheChiefsay?”CalHartshornasked.
“Yeah,”Nicksaid.“Ican’timaginehecamedownonyouatallinthissituation.Accidentshappen.YougotintoitwithShapirobutyou’rehisboy,so—”
“Iamnoone’sboy,Acevedo,”Isnappedfrombehindmyhands.“I’manaccompliceintrashinganexamroom;Igetthesameslaponthewristasanyoneelsewho’stoostupidtogetoutbeforetheceilingcomesdown.”
“Yeah,exceptyoudon’tgetthesameslap,”Nicksaidwithalaugh.“Irealizeyou’reunawareoftheprivilegeaffordedtoyoufrombeingtheguytheChiefofSurgerytruststosavetheday—”
Ireachedoverandstolehisapple.“Shutyourmouthwiththatnonsense.”
“—butyouarestilltheguywhocoordinatedthelargestandlongestall-handsresponsetoacrisissituationthishospitalhaseverexperienced.”Nickflattenedhishandsonthepicnictable.“Youaretheguywhosteppedoutofhispracticetoleadpandemicoperationsforsixmonthsand—”
“Itwasn’tlikeIhadanyonegettinghitbycarsorfuckingthemselvesupontrampolinesandladderswhentheworldshutdown.”
AndifIhadn’tdoneit,Iwould’velostmymindfromstandingbyanddoingnothing.
Calshookhishead.“Hatetobreakittoyou,Stremmel,butyou’retheguy.You’redefinitelytheChief’sguy.You’realsoourguybecauseyougotallofusthroughittoo.So,youneedtodealwiththefactthatyouplayonadifferentlevelnow.You’reonthesoon-to-beChiefofEmergencySurgerylevel.You’renotonthelevelwhereyougetpenalizedforalouddisagreementwithacolleague.”
“Funnyyoumentionthat,”Isaidwithabitterapproximationofalaugh.“SeemsIwon’tbechiefofanythinguntilIcanmakeitthroughaconflictresolutioncoursewithShapiro.”
Nickshrugged.“Nosweat.Thatshouldbeeasy.”
Atthesametime,Calhissedoutaheavy“Fuuuuuck.”
“Yeah.Thereitis.Somewherebetweennosweatandfuuuuuck.”Anotherbitterlaughbrokefreefrommychest.“ItwouldbeonethingifIhadtodoaprogramonmyown.ButwithShapiro?Killme.”
“Waitasecondwiththat,”Nickargued.“Sheflieswayundertheradarbutshe’sthebestreconstructivepersonwehave.IgotoherskillslabsessionswheneverIcanandlearnsomethingneweverytime.SamewithHartshorn.Hesendsallhisresidentstothosesessionstoo.”
Iglaredathimashardasmyexhaustedeyescould.“She’salittlehighoctane,wouldn’tyousay?Pulleddownhalftheceilingwithonehand.”
“Youareliterallytheonlypersonwhodoesn’tlikeher,”Calsaid.“Somethingtothinkabout.”
“It’shandythatIhaveeightweeksoftherapywithhertothinkaboutit,then,”Igrumbled.
ThememoryofShapiro’sclenchedknucklesandthecurtainballedinherfistpusheditselfforward.Shemusthaveyankedthehelloutofthatthing.Nothingelsecould’vesetoffthatchainofevents.Itwasimpressiveinanalarming,givetheladyawideberthsortofway.
Besideme,Calcrumpledthebutcherpaperfromhissandwichandheldtheballbetweenhishands.“IfIhadtoguess,I’dsaythisconflictresthingissomekindofhumanresourcesrequirementfollowinganyincidentbetweenstaff,butyouhavetoknowthisisamildresponse.Noadministrativeleave,nosuspensionofprivileges.Allthatsaid,Sebastian,Iwanttomakeitcleartoyouthatshe’stheonetakingthepenaltyhere.”
“AndyetI’mstilltheoneintherapywithher,”Iargued.“Fortwofuckingmonths.”
“Yourememberwhatitwasliketobetheproblem-childsurgeon,”Calsaid.
Ishookmyheadasagustofbone-chillingaircutacrossthepark.“Pleasedon’tremindmeofmyfool-assdays.YouknowI’msensitiveaboutthat,Hartshorn.”
“I’mjustsaying,”hecontinued,“Shapiroisprobablyfeelinglikeaproblemchildrightnow.Youhavenothingtoworryabout.Yourcontractwillgetrenewed.You’llsailthroughthisandgetthechiefgig.You’llhaveyourpickofthebestcandidatesforfellowships.You’llgettoresearchwhateverthehellyouwant.You’llgettotakesabbaticalswheneveryoufeellikeit.Nothingontheroadaheadofyouwillbealteredbythisincident.Shapiro,ontheotherhand,willhavetoworkthisoutofherreputation.Shehasn’tevenbeenonstaffthatlong,right?Ilosetrackoftimethesedays.”
“Abouttwoyears,”Nicksaid.
“Shehasalotmoretolosethanyoudo,”Calsaid.
Notwantingtoconcedethispoint,Iyankedupthecollarofmyjacketagainstthewind.“Justsoyouknow,it’stoodamncoldtobeouthere.”
“It’sfifty-onedegreesandsunny,Stremmel,”Calsaid.“Thisisn’tcold.”
O’Rourke,thetraumafellowI’dlostearlierintheday,joggedtowardthetable.“Ifyouwanttotalkaboutcold,letmetellyouaboutMinnesotaand—”
“DoesitlooktoyoulikeIneedanotherMinnesotastoryrightnow?”Iaskedhim.“Andwhythefuckhaven’tyouansweredapageinthepastsixhours?”
“Idon’tenjoyit,”hesaidsimply.“Ireallydon’t.”
Ipointedtowardthehospital.“Goaway.Goignorepagestothenurses’facesandseehowwellthatturnsoutforyou.”
“Butfood.Lunch,”hecomplained.
Calbobbedhishead,sayingtoO’Rourke,“Youhaveyourorders.”
“Boyhasadeathwish,”Nickmurmured.
“Therearedayswhenhe’slessmaturethansomeoftheworstfirst-yearresidentsI’vemet,”Isaid.“Thentherearedayswhenhe’s,like,fuckinggifted.”
“Idon’tevenknowhowtoteachtothat,”Nickreplied.
“Meneither.”Calgesturedtomyforehead,asking,“Isthatyourblood?”
“Probably,”Ireplied,reachingfortheotherhalfofNick’ssandwich.Ididn’tcarewhatitwas,IjustneededtoeatsomemorebeforeIfelloveranddiedfromthehorrorshowofthisday.“BetweenphysicallyshieldingShapirofromtheconsequencesofheractionsandgettinganearfulaboutprofessionalconductfromtheChief,Ihaven’treallyhadtimetodealwithmyownproblems.”
“Whyareyousittingherefeelingsorryforyourself?”Calasked.“It’sjustcouplestherapy.It’snottheendoftheworld.”
“Healwaysfeelssorryforhimself,”Nicksaidunderhisbreath.
“Youdidnotjustcallitcouplestherapy,”Igroaned.“AndIdon’tfeelsorryformyself.IjusthatetheideaofanhouraweekspentwithShapiroandaPsychDtalkingaboutfeelingsandshit.Ihaveotherthingstodo.Shehasotherthingstodo.Andit’snotlikeanythingisgoingtocomeofit.Nothing’sgoingtochange.She’sstillgoingtoscreechatpeopleaboutstaplesandI’m—”
“Stopwhining,”Calsaid.“Andifyouthinkyou’regettingassignedapsychologydoctoralstudentforthesesessions,you’reforgetting,onceagain,thatyou’retheguy.You’regettingtopbrassforyourcouplescounseling.”
Istolehisappletoo.“Fuckmylife.”
***
Sara
“I’mshockedthatStremmelhasn’tglaredhiswayoutofthis,”Alexsaid.“He’ssogoodatit.Hejustbeamsthathairyeyeballatpeopleandtheyfallinlinerealquick.IdoitandIlooklikeI’mhavingastroke.”
“Mmhmm.”IfStremmeldidanythingwithprecision,itwasglaring.Themandidnotsmile.Hewasahumanstormsystem.Hisshoulderswereamountainrangethatcouldblockoutthesun,andhisshort,scruffybeardfunctionedasanaddedlayerofmoodydarkness,slashingacrosshisfaceandturninghisscowlsintoafull-bodystatement.
“Ibetthereareatonofpoliticsatplay,”Alexcontinued.
Istudiedherassheopenedanotherpacketofgauze.Ihatedthepoliticsgame.Isuckeduptonoone,kissedzeroasses.ThatworkedformebecauseIwasinthebeautifullyfortunatepositionofbeingonlyoneofafewsurgeonsatthishospitalspecializinginreconstructivesurgeryforburnsandothercomplexwounds,andthatpositioncamewithenoughbuilt-inauthoritytosavemefromneedingtogetdowninthetrenchesofanypolitical.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Well,youknow,”shestarted,“Stremmel’sinlineforachiefjob.”
“Thatmightbeunofficialinformation,”Alexcontinued.“Youdidn’thearitfromme.”
Igaveheraquicksmile.“Ofcoursenot.”
“Anyway,it’snotlikeaformalreprimandisthatbad,”shesaid.
ShewaslyingandIcouldtellbutitwaskindofhertotry.“I’dliketobelievethat.”
“I’msureeveryonegetsanoteintheirfileatonepointoranother,”shewenton.“Trustme,itwon’tmatterinayear.You’llforgetaboutthisanditwilldropfromthecollectivememorysoonenough.IwentthroughsomehellwhenIwasaresident.Ihadarelationshipwithanothersurgeon,itwentbad,Iwasbrandedwiththescarletletter.Everyonesaidalltheworstthingsaboutme.AllinthepastandIhardlyeverthinkaboutit,butbelievemewhenIsayI’veriddenthatrollercoasterandpukedwhenIgotoff.It’sgoingtobeokay.We’regettingthroughthis,babe.”
SinceIhadnothinglefttolosetoday,Isaid,“TheChiefknowsmyfather.Sameinternclass,orsomething.”
“Oh,shit.”
Alexknewenoughaboutmyfathertounderstandthesignificance.NearlyeveryoneinsurgeryknewofhimbutAlexwasoneofthefewwhoknewitwasanemotionalsinkholeforme.“ThoughtI’dclearedallthepossibleconnectionsherebutImissedthatone.”
Shepackeduptheusedgauze,shootingmeaconcernedglance.“Howdidthiscomeupforthefirsttimetoday?Thatsoundslikesomefirst-ratehorseshittonotmentionituntilnowand—”
“Doesn’tmatter,”Isaidwitharesignedshrug.“HeexpectedmetobeacarboncopyofmyfatherandwasdisappointedtodiscoverIamnothingofthesortand,well”—IsuckedinabreathbecauseIwasnotgoingtocryorbreakthings—”hedoesn’twantmemakingahabitofdestructivetantrums.”
Alexwhippedoffhergloves.“Whatthefuck?”
“Itwassowonderfultobelecturedaboutmyconductandsentencedtoeightweeksofcounselingandremindedtobeagoodlittlegirlallinoneafternoon.It’sreallyfuntogetthedisappointeddaddytreatmentwhenyou’rethirty-nineyearsold.Andit’scomingfromyourboss,whothinksit’sokaytoinvokeyourfatherinconversation.KindathoughtI’dpassedthatphaseofmylifebutnope.HerethefuckIam.”
Shestaredatme,noddingslowly.“Thatreallysucks.I’msorry.”
“Thanks.”
“Whatdidyousay?Pleasetellmeyoutoldhimwheretoshovethat.”
“Ididn’t.Ijustkindofshutdown.”Thatwasthemostmortifyingpart.Theshameoffailingtostandupformyselfwhenitwasmostessentialslappedhard.I’dlovetosaythiswasunusualforme,yetthismessylittlepatternwasuncomfortablyfamiliar.
“I’msorrythathappened,”Alexsaid.“Buteightweeksisn’tthatlong.Andit’swithStremmel.You’llhavefun.”
Istaredather,unamused.“Hardly.He’stheworst.He’sthemostarrogantsurgeoninthehospital.No,wait.He’soneofthemostarrogantsurgeonsI’veevermet,andthatisanaccomplishmentconsideringmydad’segoneedsitsownareacode.”
Alexgaveanimpatientsniffthatsaidsheverymuchdisagreedwithme.Iallowedhertosniffatmebecauseshewastheabsolutebestatlettingpeopleventandthengivingtop-notchadvice.Shedidn’ttakeanyofherownadvicebutthatwasanissueforadifferentday.“Heisn’tthatbad.Helikestopretendheisbuthe’snot.”
Iwastreatedtothisman-sizedcloudofarroganceatleasttwiceadayasourschedulesoftenalignedtoguaranteewe’dleaveboththeBeaconHillbrownstonewecalledhomeandtheattendingsurgeons’loungeatthesametimes.
Itwouldbetolerableifhewasn’tsobusybeingdrunkonhisownexaggeratedsenseofself-importancethathefullyignoredmyattemptsatpoliteconversation.Ididn’tunderstandwhyeveryonelikedhimsomuchandwillinglyspenttimewithhimoutsidework.Ihadtoconstantlyremindmyselfthatfiguringhimoutwasn’tworthmyenergyorattention,andIdidn’thavetokeepgoingoutofmywaytoconnectwithhimasacolleagueorneighborwhenhecouldn’tmanagecompletesentencesforme.
Iremindedmyself,butIhadn’tbrokenthehabitofdoingityet.
“Alex,theguygrowlsatpeople.Weseeeachotheralmosteverydayandtheonlyformofgreetinghecanmanageisanirritable-lookingjerkofhischinoragrumbleofword-shapedsounds.”
“Yeah,he’salittlerougharoundtheedges,”sheconceded.“Butit’sallbark,nobite.”
“Maybeheshouldn’tbark!Whycan’tweaskthatofpeople?Don’tbark.Don’ttreatfemalestafflikechildren.Don’tslut-shameanyone.”Isentheranapologeticfrown.“I’mnotcallingyouaslut.”
“Yeah,Iknow,Iknow,”shemuttered.“Youpsychoticbitch.”
Wesharedabitterlaugh,thekindthatcleansedwoundsandtaughtscarshowtostretchbeyondtheirlimits.Wehaditgoodbutthatdidn’tmeanthegoodwaseasy.
“Ishould’veignoredthewholething,”Isaid,mostlytomyself.“Should’veletitgoandsparedmyselfallof”—Igesturedtothebarelytherecutsonmyarm—”thesebrand-newproblems.”
“Wouldyouhaveactuallyletitgo?”Alexshrugged.“Orwouldyouhaveresentedthedecisiontomakeyourprofessionalexpertiselessimportantthanavoidingadifficultconversation?”
“Iwould’vemovedon,”Isaid,andthatwasatleastfortypercenttrue.“Eventually.”
“Butwhatdoesthatreallymean?”sheasked.“Wouldyouhavewrittenoffthestaplingissueas‘traumasurgeonsgonnatraumasurgeon’?Orwouldyouhaveplantedthatseedinyourfieldoffucksandletitgrow?”
“Fieldoffucks.Forsure.I’dbringupthatissuetoStremmeleverytimeIsawhimandI’ddrivehiminsanewithit,niceandslow.Onlywaytofarmafieldoffucks,Alex.Yougottalong-gamethatshit.”
Alexhummedasshepushedtoherfeet.“Eightweeksofcounselingwillbefunforyoutwo,”shedrawled.
“Don’tremindme,”Isaidwithagroan.CHAPTER3SARA
MysneakerssquealedagainstthelaminatefloorasIroundedthecornertoDr.MilanaCuello’soffice.Iwould’vepreferredtoslipintotherestroomtocheckmyhairandstraightenmyselfbeforethefirstconflictresolutionsessionwithStremmelbutIwasalreadyrunninglate.Justafewminutes,butIhatedbeinglate.Italwaysfilledmewiththemostpointlesspanic.ItoldmyselfitwaspointlessandthatworryinginthiswaywasawasteofenergybutIwasalreadywastingatonofpointlessenergysotherewasnostoppingthismessnow.
Thetruthwas,Ididn’tchoosethemessylife.
Allthismessychoseme—andIwasokaywiththat.Imean,Ihadtobe.Iwasaperfectionistgoodgirlwiththeheartofaragingbitch.Messywastheonlywaytorockthisbun.
Iwasreallygoodatmyjob,yetstupidoldimpostersyndromekickedmyassonthedaily.
Iwasscrappyasfuckandmoredelicatethananyonehadtherighttobe.
Iwasvainashellyetbristledatbeingjudgedonmyappearancefirst,mysurgicalpedigreesecond.
Isworefluentlyandoften.
Icameacrossasinconsistentandmoody.Hotandcold.
Iwasthirty-nineyearsoldandapickiereaterthanmosttoddlers.That,plusanendlesslistofchronicdigestiveissuesmeantnoonecouldtakemeanywhere—butdon’teventhinkaboutnotinvitingme.
Evenmyhairgotinontheaction.Someofitcurled,someofitfellstickstraight,andtherestexistedonaspectrumofwavytofrizzy.
Icamebythemesshonestly—ashonestlyasanyonecouldwhengrowingupwithdrama-addictedparentswhowould’vebeenbetteroffdivorcedbutelectedtocheatoneachotherandcomplainabouttheirunfavorableprenuptoanyonewhowouldlisten,meandmysiblingsthemostfrequentaudience.Despitelivingthroughthismaritalmasterclass,Istillfoundmyselfwantingtosettledownwithsomeone.JustassoonasImetthemandlearnedhowtobevulnerable.Easypeasy,lemonsqueezy.
Allofthatleftmeholdingthebillofsaleforawholelotofemotionalgarbage,mostofwhichI’dprocessedandrecycledintothekindofhigh-valueskillsthatmademelooklikeawell-adjusted,functionaladultuntilIdestroyedanexamroom.Appearances,thosefunnylittleliars.
IsteppedinsideDr.Cuello’soffice,surprisedtofinditfilledwithwarmsunlightandgreenplants,alargeDominicanRepublicflagandcrammedbookshelves—andSebastianperchedonthearmofthesofa,thehintofasmilelingeringonhislips.
Themansmiled?Sincewhen?
OutofpurereflexIsmiledback,buthewasquicktodestroythemomentwithapointedglanceathissmartwatchfollowedbyabent-eyebrowedstare.Herakedthatstarethroughmyprobablywildhair,overmywhitecoat,anddowntomylemon-limesneakers.
Whatanasshole.
Justforthat,Iabandonedalldiscomfortovermylatearrivalandthestateofmyhair.
“Dr.Shapiro,you’vefoundus,”Dr.Cuellosaid,gesturingtothesofa.Shewasthekindofsixties-ishwomanwhocouldwearaponchoandmakeitlookgood,whichwasatrueaccomplishmentinmybook.Essentially,Iwantedtobeabletowearablanketandcallitfashion.Wasthattoomuchtoask?“Pleasemakeyourselfcomfortable.Dr.StremmelandIwerejusttradingPuertoRicanrestaurantrecommendationssincewe’vemadeahabitofbumpingintoeachotherinlineforthenewCaribbeanfoodtruck.Imisstheflavorsofhomeevenmorewhenwinterstartscreepingin.Perhapswecouldconductoneofoursessionsoverlunch?”
Oh,IhatedthatideaandI’dfindawaytowiggleoutoflunchwithoutinsultingDr.Cuelloandherfoodintheprocess,butthoseprioritiesweresecondarytoglaringatSebastianashepushedoffthesofa’sarmandstalkedtothebookshelves.
Isettledintothecornerofthesofaclosesttothedoor.“Iwaslatefinishingwiththeresidentsinmyskillslab.Thankyouforwaiting.”
Itfeltasstrangetosaythatasitsounded.Itwould’vebeensomuchsimplertoapologizeforrunninglateanditwould’vefeltbettertoo—untilallthelittleconcessionsandapologiestightenedandcalcifiedinsideme,abrittleorganthatfunctionedonlywhenfedasteadydietofshame.
Ihadn’tlearneditwasshameuntilthepastfewyears.Before,I’dthoughtthiswasperfectionism,typeApersonality,oldestsistersyndrome.Whatharmcouldcomefromalwayswantingtobethetopofmyclass,lookpolishedandput-togetherallthetime,solveproblemsbeforetheymaterialized?Whatwaswrongwithcontrollingeverything?
Theorganstilltickedinsideme.ItsputteredininnocuousmomentslikethesewhenIsaidthankyouforwaitinginsteadofI’msorry,anditpangedwithhungerwhenIstooduptobadassbullysurgeonslikeStremmelbecauseitwouldbeso,somucheasiertostayquiet.
Dr.Cuellowasaskinghimsomethingaboutarestaurantandscribblinganoteonthepadperchedonherknee.“Iloveagoodriceandpernillunchplatetoo,”shesaid.“Especiallywhenit’smaderight.”
Henoddedinagreement.Hewasn’tsmilinganymore.No,therelaxed,amenableversionofhimI’dfoundwhensteppingintothisofficewaslonggone,andsinceIwastheonlychangeinthisdynamic,Iearnedtheprizeofbeingthestickuphisasstoday.
Awesome.
“Ifnotallofustogether,thenyoutwoshouldvisitthefoodtrucks.Itwouldbeafineopportunitytolearnsomethingabouteachotheroutsideyourhospitalroles,”shesaid.
Igaveaslownodandlukewarmsmilebuttherewasabsolutelynowaythatwashappening.LunchwithSebastianwasoutofthequestion,butalso,Icouldn’tevenwalkpasttheareawherefoodtrucksregularlyparkedinthisneighborhoodwithoutmystomachturning.Itdrovemecrazythatsomuchofeverydayadultliferevolvedaroundeatingwithpeople.Thissetupwasn’tdesignedforthoseofuswithconfrontationaldigestivesystems.
Dr.Cuelloshiftedinhermodern-styleredwingbackchairtoglanceatStremmel,herlongsilverhairgleaminginthesunasasmiletuggedatherlips.“That’sadefensivepostureifI’veeverseenone,Dr.Stremmel.”
Hestoodwithhisshouldersagainsttheshelfandhisarmscrossedoverhischest.Hisscrubswerethedarkest,mostsaturatednavyblueI’deverseen,thecoloronewouldreceiveiftheyaskedforblackwiththebarestpulseoflifebeatinginsideit.
WhenSebastianrepliedwithnothingmorethanaslowblink,Dr.Cuellocontinued,“Ah.Well.Itistimeforustobegin.”
Ireachedintomycoatpocketstocheckthatallmydevicesweresettovibrate.Fromthecornerofmyeye,IwatchedSebastianinspectthedeviceclippedtohishipandthephoneinhispocket.
“How’sthisgoingtogo?”heasked.“Arewesupposedtoprovethatwe’renotadangertoeachotherorhospitalproperty?Ifthat’sthecase,Icanprobablyleavenow,seeingasShapiroistheonewholikestolivedangerously.”
“Inthisspace,I’llencourageyoutospeaktoeachotherusingfirstnames—”
“Shapiroisfine,”Isaid.Mywholelife,I’dbeenSaraShap,Shap,Shappie.NooneevercalledmeSara.IdoubtedI’devenrespondtoit.
“Oristhisgoingtobenamingfeelingsandexploringtraumaandthatwholedumpsterfire?Becauseifso,canwejustrawdogthisthingandmoveitallalong?Myfatherhasn’tbeeninmylifeonaconsistentbasis,myparentsdivorcedwhenIwasfour,andIhaven’tfeltanythingsincethen.Shap,you’reondeck.”
Idepositedmydevicesbackintoonepocketbesidethecolor-codednotecardsIusedtoprepareformycases,andgrabbedthisafternoon’ssnackfromtheother.“IfeelplentyofthingsbutI’dratherintellectualizethosefeelingsandbottlethemupuntiltheyexplode.”
“SeeExhibitA,theexamroomIlikeforcharting,”hesaid.
Dr.Cuellohummedtoherselfasshesteepledherfingertipsunderherchin.“Iunderstandnow.”
“What?”Sebastianasked.“Whyyou,astheAssociateDirectorofBehavioralHealth,gotstuckwithusinsteadofshippingusofftoadoctoralstudent?”
Sheinclinedherheadtowardhimwithageneroussmile.“Yes,andwhyIwaspromisedI’denjoyitsomuch.”
Ipinchedmylipstogethertokeepmyselffromshoutingthatthiswasn’tagametome.ThatI’dbeenchastisedformybehaviorbymyboss—whichwastheworstpunishmentintheworldforanyperfectionist,butespeciallythisperfectionist,sinceitcamecoupledwithareminderthatmyfuckingfatherwould’vebeendisappointed.
Myentireprofessionallifewasspentdefiningmyselfasseparateanddistinctfrommyfatherandnow…well,thiswasn’tagametome.Iwasn’tgoingtoletitbeagame.
“Icommendyoubothforbeingabletodistillyourselfdownto,ahem,rawdogterms,asyousay,thoughthat’snothowthisisgoingtogo,Sebastian,”Dr.Cuellosaid.“Ifyou’recomfortablewithit,you’rewelcometocallmeMilana.”
SheglancedinmydirectionbutIwastoobusyeatingandorganizingmypockets.Notforthefirsttime,IobservedthatIcouldhideanentirekitteninoneofthesepockets.
“Ourtimetogetherwillbespentpracticingde-escalation,socialperspective-taking,andcommunicationinhighstressyetprofessionalsettings.Ihopeyou’llviewthisasanopportunityratherthanapunishment.”
“Itisapunishment,”Isaid,mostlytomyself.
“What—whatthehellareyoueating?”Sebastianasked.
Irepliedwiththesameamountofexasperationwithwhichhe’daskedthequestion.“Croutons.”
“Why?”
“Why,”Irepeated.“Whatkindofquestionisthat?Doyougouptopeopleinthecafeteriaandaskthemwhytheychosethatsandwich?”
“No,becauseit’safuckingsandwich,notabagofcroutonsthatbelongontopofasalad.That’sweird.”HelookedtoMilana.“That’sweird.”
Sheheldupherhandsandletthemfall,silentlychoosingneutralityinthisbattle.
“Mycroutonsarenotsubjecttoyourapproval.”
Hecockedhisheadtotheside.“Andyetmytreatmentplansaresubjecttoyourapproval?”
“Yeah,whentheplanislazy.Therearebetteroptionsthansloppystaples,especiallywhenwe’retalkingaboutfaces,especiallywhenwe’retalkingaboutyoungerpatientswho—”
“Thenyourprimaryconcernisaesthetics,”heinterrupted,noddingtohimselflikethisconfirmedallhisworstsuspicions.“Should’veguessedthat.Plasticsandall.”HeliftedhisshouldersandIcouldhearthesmugnessvibratingoffhim.“Myprimaryconcernissavinglives.”
Ibitintoanothercrouton,staringathimallthewhile.Imadehimwaitformyresponse,andIcouldtellfromeveryticofhisscruffyjawthathehatedit.WhenIwasgoodandready,Isaid,“You’renotaccomplishingwhatyouthinkyou’reaccomplishingbydrowningmeincondescension.Insteadofvalidatingyourexpertise,you’reundercuttingyourselfandshowingyourwholeassintheprocessbytellingus”—IgesturedtowardMilana—”thattheonlyexpertiseyouvalueisyourown.Thatdoesn’tspeakfondlytoyourgrowthmindset,nowdoesit,Dr.Stremmel?”
Hedidn’trespond.Ihadtoworkatswallowingmysmile.Iwasn’tpositivebutitseemedlikehewasgrindinghisteeth.Hewentonstaringatme,hisdarkeyeshardandhisarmslockedtightacrosshischest.Itwasaudaciousofhimtowalkaroundwiththosebarearms,notathermalshirtorfleecejackettoprotectusfromallthattanned,muscularobscenity.Andthatwasnoexaggeration.Stremmelwasquiteobsceneandhedeservednoneofit.Hehadnomoreuseforthatcrispjawlinethanhedidthosebroad,powerfulshoulders.
Milanaglancedbetweenusseveraltimesasthesilencethickened.Well,itwasn’tentirelysilent.ThesecroutonswereasgoodaspinsloudlystabbingmySebastianStremmelvoodoodoll.
Eventually,shebrokethetension,saying,“Youmightnotrecognizeit,butwe’vemadeprogresstoday.”
“Becausethere’snobrokenglassonthefloor?”heasked.
IcruncheddownonapumpernickelcroutonashardasIcouldmanage.WhenIglancedathim,Ifoundhisgazelockedonme.Notexactlyonme,butthehotpinkt-shirttuckedintomygreenscrubbottoms.ItreadScrubsandScalpels,withananatomicallycorrectheartandapairofsurgicalbladescrossedlikeapirate’sskullandbones.Hisbrowsliftedandhelaughed,asinglehathatbarelyregisteredasasound.
Thenhemetmyeyes,hispermanentscowlshiftingintothefinestfragmentofasmile.Iarchedabrowinchallengeandherespondedwithaneyerollsoepicheprobablygavehimselfatensionheadache.
Ignoringallofthis,Milanacontinued,“Progressdoesn’tstickunlessyoupracticeit.Forthisweek’spractice,I’dlikeyoutoshareameal—”
“No.”Ishookmyhead.Thepumpernickelturnedtobile,sharpandbitterandmiserableinmythroat.
“Goaheadandputmedownfornoaswell,”Sebastiansaid.
Becausethiskindwomanwithhergleaminghairandpottedplantshadanevilside,Milanarepeated,“I’dlikeyoutoshareameal.Herearetherequirements.Youmustconveneoutsidethehospitalcomplex.Youmustsitdownatatabletoeat.Imightbeold-schoolbutI’mtellingyoucoffeeisnotameal.Notinmybook.Finally,youmustlearnfivenew,non-professionalthingsabouteachother.”
Sebastianunfoldedhisarmsandshovedhishandsintohispockets,hisscowldeepenoughtostirupathunderstormofitsown.“Here’smyrequirement.Thathourofextracurricularworkcountsasoneoftheeightsessions.”
Iwould’vethrownmysupportbehindthisproposalifIwasn’tbusycatalogingwaystododgetheassignmententirely.IfIaskedaround,Icouldprobablyfindsomeonewhoneededakidney.Donatingakidneywouldexcuseme,right?Itwould.Itwoulddestroymyschedulebutitwasallaboutbargainingawaythebad.
“Thiswon’tbethelastassignment,”Milanasaid.“ButI’llconsideryoursuggestionifthisassignmentiscompletedtomysatisfactionbynextweek’ssession.”
Iclosedmyreusablesnackbagandshoveditinacoatpocket.Icouldn’tthinkaboutnextweek’ssessionyet,notwhenthisoneneededtoend.I’dpreparedmyselfforthesevisitsbutnotactivitiesoutsidethehospital.Ireallyhatedgroupprojects.Theyalwayshadawayofgrowinglegsandruiningmylife.
“I’dlikeyoutomakethatallowance,”Sebastianpressed.
“Dr.Stremmel,I’mawarethatyouareaccustomedtogettingyourway.You’veearnedit.Butyougetyourwayonthesurgicalwing.Notinthisoffice,notunlessyouearnithere.”
Ipushedtomyfeet.Ididn’tknowifwewerefinishedornotbutIdidn’thaveanotherminuteinme.“Thankyouforyourtime,”IsaidtoMilana.“Excuseme.”
Beforeshecouldrespond,Iwasoutthedoor.
***
Maybeitwasjustmebutbeingapeople-pleaserhadneverbeenaboutmakinganyonehappy.Wecalleditpeople-pleasingbutwhatwemeantwaswedidwhateverittooktokeepfromalteringthestatusquo.Workingextremelyhardinschoolhadbeenoneofmymostsociallyacceptableformsofmaintainingthestatusquoandgettingadashofvalidationintheprocess.TherewasnothingtoseeheresolongasIwasearninggoodgradesandengagedintherightafter-schoolactivities.Beingobsessivelyobedientandhelpfulwasanother.Everyonelovedthekidwhowassodamnmatureforherage.Theyneversawitastheoutwardmanifestationofinnerstress.Theyneverstoppedtoaskhowthatkidgottobesomature.Theyneveraskedwhyshecouldn’tjustbeakid.Theyonlyreapedthebenefits.
Ididn’tgiveadamnaboutpleasingpeoplebutIkneweverythingaboutplayingtherightpart.
Iknewbetternow.IknewIdidn’thavetodoanyofthosethingsanymorebutIstillfeltthetwingesofguiltwhenitcametoassertingmyneeds—orwalkingoutofacounselingsessionwhenI’dhadenough.
Thatsameguiltateatmenow,hoursafterthesession.WehadhomeworktodoandIalwaysdidmyhomework,evenifitwashomeworkthatforcedmeoutofmycomfortzone.
Afterabitofresearch,IdraftedatexttoStremmel.
Sara:Here’sascreenshotofmyschedulefortheweek.
Sara:Here’salistofrestaurantsthatworkforme.
Sebastian:Ithoughtyou’dfightthistothedeath.I’mdisappointedyoucavedsoquick.
Sara:Shutupandchooseaplace.
Sebastian:I’vebeentoPastoral.Acevedo’sbrother-in-lawlivesnearthere.Thatworks.
Sara:Date?
Sebastian:Yeah,Iguessit’sadateifthat’swhatyouwanttocallit…
Sara:No.ItisNOTadate.Youneedtotellmewhenyou’reavailable,asindayandtime.Whichdate?
Sebastian:Ah.Okay.Monday?7or8?
Sara:7willbefine.
Sebastian:It’sadate,right?
Sara:Forfuck’ssake,no!
Sebastian:DidIjusthearyouscreechfromthreefloorsaway?
Itossedmyphoneasideandgroanedupattheceiling.I’ddistractedmyselfreadingmenusandforgottenforafewbeautifulminutesthatSebastianwasupstairs.Byvirtueofsturdyyetrandomlyflimsybrownstones,everyoneinthebuilding’sthreeapartmentsknewwhentheotherswereshowering,climbingthestairs,orloudlybreathing.ForgetaboutwatchingTVorhavingsex.
NotthatI’dhadalotofsexsincemovingherefromNewYorkbutAlexandherhusbandRileyhadalotofsex.Iownedseveraldifferenttypesofnoise-cancelingheadphonesandwhitenoisemachines,andscrolledthelocalrealestatelistingseveryday.
I’dneverhadaconversationwithAlexaboutthesexnoises.Ididn’tevenalludetohearingthem—andthatwasanotherdifferencebetweenfriendsandbestfriends.Oneofthemcouldsay,“Look,sweetie,it’ssonicethatyourhusband’scockcanmakeyouseestars.Maybenowisagoodtimetoinvitesomenewtoysintoyourplayandtryoutagag?Perhapssomelightchoking?”
Sara:Idonotscreech.
Sebastian:Youdo.
Sara:Monday.7.Iwillmeetyouthere.Pleasefigureoutyourfivethingsinadvance.CHAPTER4SEBASTIAN
“Whatelse?”IaskedO’Rourke.
IpacedthesidewalkacrossthestreetfromPastoralintheFortPointneighborhoodwhilemytraumafellowmurmuredafewlinesfromanoldSnoopDoggsongthroughmyearbuds.ItwasfuckingfreezingoutherebutIwasaminuteearly,andI’dtakeallmannerofdamp,bone-chillingwindifitsavedmefromdealingwithShapiro.Atleastforonemoreminute.
“Ithinkthat’sthelastupdateIhaveforyou,”hesaid.Icouldhearhimflippingthroughhisnotebookandtheambientnoiseofthehospitalaroundhim.“Fornow,thatis.Iwillcomeupwithsomethingsoonenough.”
“Pleasedon’tcomplaintomeaboutthegeneralsurgeryfellowgrabbinganothercaseoutfromunderneathyouagain,”Isaid,givingtherestaurantresentfulglance.
“Didyouhearmecomplain?BecauseIdidn’t.Youextrapolatedacomplaintaboutthatcase-thievingsneakfrommyoverallreport.ThelasttimeIcomplainedoutloudwaswhenIwasaninternandhadsomanypagers,myscrubskeptfallingdown.”
ThatwasfullyinaccuratebutIwasn’tinterestedindebatingthatwithhimnow.“Andhowmanypagersdoesittaketodropyourpants,O’Rourke?”
“Yeah,thissoundslikeafullyappropriatequestion,”hesnarked.“Andforyourinformation,itwasnine.Ninepagers.Urology,trauma,ENT,cardio,surgicaloncology,colorectal,vascular,limbsalvage,plastics.Whatafuckingnightmare.”
Istifledagroanatthementionofplasticsandfrownedatmywatch.Iwasgoingtohavetogointhereandgetthisoverwithsoon.Iwouldn’tputitpastSaratobreakachairovermyheadifIrolledintenminuteslate.
Ishovedmyhandsintomypocketsasanothergustofcold,rawairblewinoffthewater.Ihatedthewaysummerbumpedandstumbledintoautumnhere,startingandstoppingliketherewassomeseriousquestionoverwhetherseasonsweresupposedtokeeponchanging.Andthen,aftercoldsnapsandheatwavesandhurricanes,therewasalwaysonedayinOctober,justliketoday,whenitallcollapsedandthedebatewasover.Summerwasfinished,autumnwasheretostay,andIfuckinghatedit.
Ihatedwintryweatherandallthenonsensethatwentwithit.Snow,ice,everything.Goddamn,itwasawful.
“Anyway,thatwasanightIwouldn’twishonanyone,”O’Rourkesaid.
“What?”
“Didyoudipoutonmethere?Youdothatalot,Stremmel.IhavetocheckthepaperworkbutIthinkyou’resupposedtopayattentiontome.You’realsosupposedtobeteachingme,notflakingoutinthemiddleofmytwenty-carpileupstory,butthat’saneglectI’vecometoacceptfromyou.”
IthadtakenmeabittogetmyarmsarounditbutInowunderstoodthiswasO’Rourke’spersonality.Hewasobnoxiousinajaded,cynicalway,thoughheneverpretendedhewasinthisbusinessforanyaltruisticpurpose.Hethrivedonegoandhalf-bakedcontemptforeveryone.Iunderstoodittoo,evenifIdidn’tfunctionthesamewayhedid.Buttheguyhadadry,sillysidetooanditoftencameoutinstoriesabouthisinternyearsinMinnesota,hisassertionthatIdidn’tteachhimenough,orridingthelinebetweendelinquentandsavant.
O’RourkewasabrilliantsurgeonbutnotasingledaywentbywithoutmewishingI’dknownallthesequirksofhisbeforeselectinghimforatwo-yearfellowship.
“Whatwouldyoulikemetoteachyouwhileyou’rerecappingthegreatesthitsofyourinternyear?”
“Youcouldstartbyexplaininghowyouorganizeyourshit.Ibentdowntotiemyshoesandittookmetwenty-fiveminutestocleanupthemessfrommypocketsprojectilevomitingallovertheplace.Itwasafuckingyardsale,man.”
“Soundslikeapersonalproblem.”Iglancedattherestaurantagain.Iwasnotablylatenow.“Couldyou…uh,domeafavor?Couldyougivemeacallinforty-fiveminutes?”
“Isthatwhenyouslipintoabath?Glassofpinot,chocolates,fizzybathbomb?Getyourmetime?”
“What?No.Imightneedareasonto—”Istopped,neitherwantingtonorknowinghowtoexplainthis.“Forty-fiveminutes.Imightteachyousomethinginterestingtomorrowifyoucansavemetonight.”
“Sold.Settingatimernow.”
Withthat,O’Rourkeendedthecall.IpoppedmyearbudsbackintotheircaseandacceptedthefactIhadtogoinside,sitdownwithSaraforsignificantlylongerthanIcouldbear,andtalktoherwithoutrollingmyeyesoutloud.
Iwasgoingtofailmyassoff.
ItwaswarminsidetherestaurantandIspottedherimmediately.Shewasfrowningatherphonewhiletyping,pausing,deleting,andtypingagain.
“Excuseme,sir?Areyoumeetingsomeone?”
Iglancedaroundtofindthehostesswithastackofmenuscradledinherarm.“Uh.Yeah,but—”
“Wouldyouhappentobethemostinsufferable,arrogantsurgeonintheentirecity?Ifso,Icanshowyoutoyourparty.”
Ishiftedtofacethehostessfully.“Howmuchdidshepayyouforthat?”Ireachedformywallet.“Whateveritwas,I’lldoubleitifyou—”
Sheheldupahandandshookherheadwithagrin.“No,I’mprettysureI’monherside.”
Ishovedmywalletbackinmypocket.“Howrighteousofyou.”IjerkedmychininSara’sdirection.“Myinsufferablearrogancewillleadtheway.Thanks.”
Ireachedthetableinafewlongstrides,yankedbacktheemptychair,forcingaroughsquealofwoodscrapingoverthestonefloor.Sarastartled,herphonedroppingtothetableandalittlegaspslippingpastherlips.
“Arrogant,huh?”Iasked,droppingintothechair.“Insufferabletoo?Howlongdidittakeyoutocomeupwiththatscheme?Didittakeallweek?Ordidlightningstrikewhileyouwerewaiting?”
Sheleanedback,foldedherarmsacrosshertorso.Thatmovehadtheunfortunateeffectofremindingmethatshewasapointlesslybeautifulwomanwhocouldweartheshitoutofaturtlenecksweater.ButIdidn’tcare.Really,Ididnot.Shecouldwearallthesweatersshewantedandhaveallthatlong,blondehairandbeannoyingly,disturbinglybeautifulandIdidn’thavetocare.Notmyproblem.
“You’relate,”shesnapped.
“YouwerelateonThursday.”Ireachedforthemenuwaitingatmyplacesettingandgaveitaquickglance.“Seemedonlyappropriatetoreturnthefavor.”
Withaglarethatcoulddilatebloodvessels,Saracollectedherphoneandtappedthescreen.Shesetitinthecenterofthetablewithapointednod.
Afterholdingherglarethroughseveralblinks,Iglancedatthescreen.“What’sthatsupposedtobe?”
“Itwouldhelpifyoucouldmakeanattemptatcriticalthinking,”shereplied.“It’satimer.There’snoreasonthisshouldexceedthirtyminutes.”
Stillstaringather,Iraisedmyhandintotheair.Soon,aserverappearedatmyside.
“Heythere,folks.CanIinterestyouin—”
“Abeer,please,”Iinterrupted.“Awheat,nothingpumpkin.”IblinkedatSara.“Themargheritapizza.”
Shearchedabrowupasshesaid,“Thebucatini,please.Noarugula.”
“Anythingtodrink?”theserverasked.
“Waterisfine,thanks,”Sarareplied.
“Andwhataboutnibblesforthetable?Calamari,eggplantfrites,burrata—”
“No,”wesaidinunison.
“Okay,then,”theservermurmured.“I’llgetthatrightinforyou.”
Oncewewerealone,Saraslidanindexcardacrossthetable.“Fivethingsaboutme.Thereyougo.”
Ipeeredatthecard.“Didyoubuyapackageofindexcardsjustforthispurpose?Ordoyouhaveindexcardslyingaround?Likeyou’reaninternpresentingatroundsforthefirsttime?Doyoustillmakenotesforrounds?Pleasetellmeyou’repasttheindexcardphase,Shap.Icouldn’tstanditifIknewyouwerewalkingaroundwithlittlecolor-codednoteseveryday.”
Sheregardedmewithasmuggrinthatmadeitprettyclearshe’dripmyfaceoffifItookmyeyesfromherforasecond.“You’rethekindofteacherwhoabusesinternsandresidents,then?Doyouthrowthingstooorisitjustshamingandtorment?”
“Youaretheonewiththetrackrecordwithprojectiles.”Ipluckedthebeerfromtheserver’strayanddrainedhalfofitbeforecontinuing.“AndI’llhaveyouknowI’magreatteacher—”
“I’msureyouthinkso,”sheinterrupted.“Andthat’sfantasticforyou.Really,itis.ButIdon’thaveasinglefucktogiveaboutanyofthatbecauseI’mwalkingoutofhereintwenty-threeminutes.Forkoveryourfivethings,Stremmel.”
AsnarlsoundedinmythroatasIstudiedSara.Icouldn’tstopstaringather.Itwasmostlyself-preservationbutashredofconfusionlingeredtheretoo.Ihadsomanyquestionsrightnowbutthefirstandmostessentialamongthemwas:Whothehellwasthiswomanandwhydidshekillforsport?
Isetthebeerdown,foldedmyarmsonthetable,andleanedinclose.“Idon’tthinkthisiswhatMilanahadinmindwhenshesaidweweresupposedtogettoknoweachother,”Iwhisper-growled.“Ifyoucouldjustbenice—”
“Youwantmetobenice?”shewhisper-screechedrightback.“Nice?That’swhatyouwant?”
“Itwouldn’tkillyou.”
“Butclearlyitwillkillyou,”shesaid.“SeeingasI’vemadeapointofbeingnicetoyousincemovingintothebuildingandyou’ve—hmm.”Shetappedafingertoherchin.“Right,yes,youignoredmypleasantries.Andnowyou’dlikemetobeallsugarplumsandlemondropsbecauseitsuitsyourpurposes?”Sheshookherhead,thatmaniacalgrinstillpullingupherpalepinklips.“Idon’tthinkso.No,Idon’tthinkso.”
Itookmytimerespondingtothatattackandfinishedoffmybeer.IwasdrinkingtoofastandpracticallyinvitingamigraineintomydaytomorrowbutIcouldbarelythinkaboutanythingotherthantheblondeballoffuryseatedacrossfromme.
“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”Isettheemptyglassonthetableandignoredasudden,perverseinterestinwhatshewaswearingwiththatturtleneck.She’dbeenseatedwhenIarrivedandshehadn’tyetleaptuptobludgeonmewithasaltshakersoIwascluelessastowhethersheworejeansoraskirtor—fuck,Ididn’tevenknow.AndIdidn’tcare.Notatall.WhichwaswhyIignoredthatthoughtentirely.
“Iamtalkingaboutsayinghellotoyouinthehallway,”shereplied.
“Right.LetmeseeifIunderstandthis.”Ireachedforherglassofwateranddraineditwhileshegapedatme.“Ididn’tgiveenoughattentiontoyourchirpylittlegreetingssoyouwentalltinytornadoonanexamroom,andyou’regoingtoholditagainstmeuntilyoucanfindawaytoberidofme,evenifthatinvolvesstranglingthelifeoutofmewithyourpreciousplasticsurgeonhands.DoIhavethatright?”
Okay,soIknewIwasanasshole.Iknewthis.
AndnowSaradidtoo.
Shegaveheremptyglassamortifiedstarebeforemeetingmygaze.“Webothknowtheexamroomwasanaccidentandfullyunrelatedtoourpriorinteractionsoutsidethehospital.Iamnotgoingtorevisehistorywithyou.Iamnotgoingtobenicesimplybecauseitmakesyoucomfortable.”
“Idon’trememberthelasttimeIwasanythingclosetocomfortable.Okay?Whetheryouscreechatmeornotwon’tchangethat.”Drummingmyfingeronthetable,Icontinued,“I’mjustsayingwehavetogetthroughthisthing.Weshouldn’tkilleachotherintheprocess.”
Theserverarrivedwithourmealsandanotherroundofdrinks,whichwasahugefuckingreliefbecauseIurgentlyneededsomethingtodowithbothmyhandsandmymouth.ButImadethefatalerrorofglancingacrossthetableastheserversetSara’sdishdown—adishtoppedwithawholedamnfieldofarugula.Notonlydidtheynotholdthegreens,theyseemedtotreathertoanextrahelpingbecausetherewasnowaythatwasthestandardquantity.
IwatchedSarapurseherlipstogetherandIfiguredwewereinforanotherexplosionnow.She’dsendthatdishbacksohard,thechefwouldsetfieldsofarugulaonfire.
Butshesaidnothingwhentheserveraskediftherewasanythingelseweneeded.Andsheblinkeddownattheheapofcurlygreens,forkinhand,likeitwasaprojectshe’dinheritedanddidn’thavethehearttoabandon.
Isatthere,myfingerscurledaroundthefreshglassofbeer,andstaredwhileSaraexcavatedastrandofpastafrombeneaththearugula.
WhatthefuckwasIwatching?
Wherewasthetinytornado?Orthescreechowl?Oreventhehunterwho’dhappilymountmyheadonherwall?
Andwhothehellwasthis?
Weateinsilenceforseveralminutes.Itwasn’tuntiltheserverarrivedatthetabletotopoffSara’swaterthatwesharedamomentaryglanceatthewoman’sveinyhands.Thosewerelegend-statusveins.
Oncewewerealoneagain,Isaid,“Icouldgetagraycannulainonthefirstshotandshewouldn’tevenfeelit.”
Saragaveadrylaugh.“WhenwasthelasttimeyoustartedanIV?”
“Notrecently,”Iadmitted.“Iusuallypracticeonmyresidentsatthestartoftheirtraumarotation.Getsusoffonagood,abusivefootandithelpsmerankthembyvascularity.Leastbeingbest,ofcourse,sincethey’dnevergetpulledoffthefloortodonateblood.Itcomesbacktohauntthemwhenthey’reinevitablyenrolledinaclinicaltrial.”
“You’resuchanasshole,”shesaid,buttherewasnoheatbehindit.Shealmostsoundedamused.
“Andwhataboutyou?Whenwasthelasttimeyoustartedaline?”
Shesetherforkdownandbusiedherselfwiththenapkinonherlap.“YouhavenoideawhatIdo,doyou?”
Idroppedapieceofcrusttomyplate.“Plastics.YoumakepeoplelookprettyafterIputthembacktogether.”
Shedabbedherlips—theyweresopale,barelyevenpink—andsetthenapkinbesidehermostlyuntouchedpasta.She’dmoveditaroundplentybutshe’dhardlymadeadent.
Andthensheheldupherphonetomeasthetimercounteddownthefinalfivesecondsshe’dsetforus.Afterswipingawaythealarm,sheslippedtheindexcardoffthetable.“Ididn’tgetyours,soyou’renotgettingmine.”
SarapushedawayfromthetableandIhadnochoicebuttowatchhercrosstherestaurant.Shedidn’tbotherwithbackwardglances,notwhenshewasbusywalkinglikethefloorowedhermoney.
Ireturnedtomybeerandpizza,andattemptedtofigureoutwhattheever-lovingfuckhappenedheretonight.Iwashalfwaythroughthelastsliceofpizzawhenmyphonebuzzedinmypocket.IassumeditwasSaratextingmeathesisonmyarrogancethoughIwaswrong.WhenIsawO’Rourkewascalling,Ituckedthephoneagainstmyshoulder,saying,“What’sup?”
Theblaringroaroftheemergencyroomcamethroughthelinebeforehesaid,“I’mearlybutIgottadealwithanissue.Considerthisyourfakecrisiscallsoyoucangetthehelloutofwhateveryou’vegottenyourselfintonow.”
“Idon’tgetmyselfintothings,”Isaid,droppingthelastofthecrusttomyplate.“Iactivelyavoidgettingintothings.Ihatethings.”
“Yeah,yeah.Idon’thavetimetounpackanyofthattonightbutmaybetomorrowifyoubuymelunch.”
“I’mnotbuyingyoulunch.”
“That’scool.I’llgetAcevedotopickupthetab.He’llwanttohearaboutthis.Hepaysforupdatesonyourmisery.”AsirenwailednearbyandO’Rourkegroaned.“Reallygottagonow.Begood.”
Hehungupastheservercametogatherourplates.IpointedatShapiro’spasta.“Shesaidnoarugula.Whatdoesthislookliketoyou?”
Theserverfrownedatthedish.“Whydidn’tshesayanything?”
Imotionedtotheemptyseat.“AndyouthinkIhaveanyidea?”CHAPTER5SARA
Mygoodgirlalwaysdidherhomework.Shecouldn’tliveinaworldwhereshedidn’tcomplyfullyandconfirmtoeveryonethatshewasperfectandworthyofthelittlesliceofspacesheoccupied.
ThatgoodgirlwasshakinginherbootsasIjoggedupthestairstoMilanaCuello’soffice,rightontimeforthisweek’ssession.TheothersideofmewelcomedtheopportunitytoshowoffStremmel’sepicinflexibility.Milanawassuretoseehowthatmanwasimpossible.She’dsympathizewithme.Shehadto.
AsIexitedthestairwellandapproachedheroffice,IfoundStremmelleaningagainstthewall,hisgazefixedonMilana’sdoorasifhecouldforceitopenbywillalone.Heworethesamedarkbluescrubsaslastweekandhadn’tyetrealizedhisforearmsweretooprofanetoflasharoundthesehalls.Unfortunate.Someonereallyneededtotalktohimaboutmodesty.
Istoppedseveralfeetfromhimandgrabbedmyphone.IhadnointentionofspeakinguntilthesessionstartedandI’ddivertmyselfbyanymeansnecessary.Evenwhenthesessiondidgetunderway,IintendedtoletSebastianimplodeandprovemypoints.
However.
“Lastchance,”hesaid.
“Excuseyou?”
“Lastchance,”herepeatedwithascowlyside-eye.“Stillhavethatindexcard?”
“Youhadplentyofopportunitiestotakeadvantageofmyindexcard.Youchosenottoandthatwasallyourdecision.”
“Hmmm.”Hecrossedhisarmsoverhischestandwentonstaringatthedoor.Then,“Hmmm.”
“What?”Isnapped.
“Oh,nothing.Iwasjustthinkingabouthowwe’regoingtoendupwithanotherhomeworkassignmentbecausewedidn’tcompletethisone.”
“Icompletedmypartofthis,”Iargued.“You’retheonewhocouldn’tbebotheredtowritedownfivelittlethings.”
Heturnedhisheadandproceededtodraghisstarefrommysneakerstomy(again,still,always)untamedhair.“Andyouthinkthatactuallymatters?”
Ishovedmyfistsintomypockets.“Youshould’vedoneyourpartlastweek.Oratanytimepriortothisexactmoment.”
“I’mreadynow.GotanindexcardIcanborrow?”
BeforeIcouldtellhimwhatIthoughtaboutlendinghimanything,Milanasweptintothehall,allsmilesandsilverhair.“Ah,myfriends!You’rebackforanothervisit.Come.Insidenow,inside.”
SebastianresumedhisspotatthebookshelfandIsatonthesofa,myhandsclaspedinmylap.Battlestationsready.
“Don’tgettoocomfortable,”Milanacalledfrombehindherdesk.“Wewon’tbesittingtoday.”Sheheftedanoldmilkcrateontoherdesk.“Playingismuchmorefun.Wedon’tplayenoughasgrown-ups,dowe?It’slikeweforgethowtodoit.”
“Or,afterfouryearsofundergrad,fouryearsofmedicalschool,anotherfourorsoyearsofresidency,andthenayearortwooffellowship,youhaveabunchofsociallystunted,sleep-deprivedteenagerswhoknowhowtocutpeopleopenbutnothowtotakeadayoff,”Sebastiansaid.“Comeswiththeterritory,wouldn’tyouagree?”
Shechuckledathim.“Icallitjobsecurity.”Withafondsmileforeachofus,Milanacarriedthecratetothecoffeetable.“AsIsaid,we’llbeplayingtoday.”Shebeckonedtous,adding,“Up.Onyourfeet.”
Istood,shruggedoutofmywhitecoat,anddrapeditoverthearmofthesofa.WhenIturnedbacktowardSebastianandMilana,Iwasgreetedwithadecidedlymasculinesnort.
Ithrewwhatthefuck?handsathimbutheshookhisheadwithaslightlaugh.Iwentonglaringuntilhesaid,“It’snothing.Just”—heglanceddownatmyt-shirt,theonethatreadRunningOnandthechemicalstructureofATP,thestuffthatcarriedenergyincells—”nothing.Forgetit.”
“Andforgetweshall,”Milanasaidasshepluckedasquishyballemblazonedwithapharmaceuticalcompany’slogofromthecrate.“Sincethisisnotmyfirstvisittothecircus,Iamnotgoingtoaskyouaboutthehomeworkfromourlastsession.We’llplayourgameandhavefuninstead.Allright?”
“Thisisobviouslyatrap,”Stremmelsaid.
Iranmypalmsovermythighs,knowinghewasrightaboutthatyetcompletelyunwillingtotellhimasmuch.
“Trap?Fromme?No,”Milanadrawled.“I’dnever.”Shetossedtheballfromhandtohand.“AllIwantyoutodoisplayagameofcatchbutdohaveacareformyplants.Thestringofpearlsneedsonlyaslightinvitationtofallapart,andwhilethepothoslookshardy,itoffendseasily.”Shelobbedtheballtome.“Sara.Startusoff.Myoneruleiswedon’tlettheballhitthefloor.”
“Andifwedo?”Stremmelasked.
“Youwon’t,”shesaid.
“Ifwedo?”herepeated.
Withadeepgrin,shesaid,“Embracethechallenge,Sebastian,evenifyoudon’tknowwhatmightcomeofit.”
Itstartedoutsimple,justmeandSebastianthrowingpharmaswagbackandforthacrossMilana’soffice.Butthenshereachedintothecrateandretrievedaplushpineapple.“Let’saddthisone,”shesaid.“Sebastian,you’reup.”
Hecaughtthepineappleaftersendingtheballtome.IttookusafewtriestogettherhythmrightbutwegottherewhileMilanaslatheredonthepraise.Sebastianwantednopartofthat.Henarrowedhiseyesorlockedhisjaweverytimesheacknowledgedusforplayingalong.Allofthatwasannoyingenoughbuthediditwhileflauntingthosedamnarmsatmetoo.Terriblyrudeofhim.
Then,shesaid,“It’stooquietinhere.Let’shavealittlechat.”
“Andthere’sthetrap,”hemuttered.
“Now,Sebastian,”shestarted,clearlyenjoyinghismisery,“whereisSarafrom?”
“Idon’tknow,”hereplied.“Hell,probably.”
Iwingedthepineappleathimhard.Hehadtostumblebackwardtocatchit.
“AndSara,”Milanasaid,“whereisSebastianfrom?”
“IfIhadtoguess,I’dsayadefectivecondom.”
ThepineapplestruckmyshoulderandIhadtoflailabittograbitbeforeithitthefloor.IglaredathimwithasmuchheatandviolenceasIcouldsummon.HerotatedthesquishyballinhispalmasifhewasfindingtherightgripjustasIshotthepineapplebackathim.Theballlandedsquareonmychest.
“Lovely,lovely,”Milanasang.“Sebastian,whatisSara’sfavoritecolor?”
“Necrotickidney,”hesaid,spikingthepineapplehighovermyhead.Ibarelycaughtit,andendedupwithmyt-shirthalfuntucked.
“Sara,yourturn—”
“AnythinginfectedwithC.diff,”Ireplied,puttingallmyweightbehindsendingthatstupidpineappletohisscowlyface.
“Oh,god,”hegroaned,catchingthetoyasitbouncedoffhim.“Notfair,Shap.Intestinalbacteriumisoutofbounds.Don’tmakemethinkaboutthat.I’mgonnagag.”
“Nextquestion,”Milanacalled.“Sara,didSebastianhaveanypetsasachild?”
TheballconnectedwithmythighasIsaid,“Theyallranaway.”
Beforehewasprompted,Sebastiansaid,“You’retheonewhocansummonmonsterswithyourscreeching.ItmustbedifficultwithyetisandtheChupacabraandtheLochNessmonstershowingupallthetime.Dotheystayfordinner?”
ThepineapplehitmyotherlegasIscrambledtocatchitandthrowbacktheballwithouteithertouchingthefloor.Theballconnectedlowonhistorsoandhiseyesflaredashecaughtholdofit.ThesetoysweresmallandlightbutIwasbreathinghardandsweatingfromthisactivity,andsowasSebastian.
“Let’smoveontosiblings,”Milanasaid.
“YoucanfindStremmel’sonatruecrimepodcast,”Isaid,aimingthepineappleathisjaw.
“Asvictims?”heasked.“Orkillers?”
Thesquishyballconnectedwithmyloosebunandhalfmyhairslippedfreefromthetiebuttherewasnotimetostopandfixit.“Doesitmatter?”
“Abit,”heyelled.“AmIthemurderer?Arethey?Comeon!Getyourgameright,Shap.Don’tfallapartonmenow.Ifyou’retakingtheseshots,youbettershoottokill.”
“Then,yeah.You’retheserialkillerhere.”
“Thankyou,”heshouted.
“Sebastian,”Milanastarted,“tellusaboutSara’s—”
“YoumeantheChildrenoftheCorn?”
“Veryinventive,”Isaid,sendingtheballtohisjawagain.
“Betterthanserialkiller,”hereplied,nailingmythighwiththepineapple.
“Really,though?”Iargued.“Idon’tseehowcorn-harvestmurderersareanydifferent.Dobetter.”
Withaneyeroll,heturnedtoMilana.“Doyouhaveanythingharder?”
Itookthatopportunitytofirethepineapplerightathischiseledcheek.Hisheadsnappedbackandthepineapplerolledunderthecoffeetable.Therewasafullsecondwherehewasstunnedsilent.
Butthenheroundedonme,hissignaturescowlreplacedwithaflat,open-mouthedstarethatwasmany,manytimesmoredangerousthananyotherlookhe’deversentmyway.Attheexactsamesecond,wedivedforthecrateandgrabbedalltheammunitionwecouldcarryandletlooseoneachother.Plushtoys,bouncyballs,stressballs,tennisballs,everyvarietyofpharmaswag—itwasawild,hiccupingblurofhitsandthrows.
“Youjustdon’tknowwhentostop,”Sebastianshouted,aneggplantstresstoywiththebrandnameofanerectiledysfunctiondrugprintedonitflyingfromhishand.
“Andyoudo?”Icried,throwingtwominiaturefrisbees.“Youcould’vestoppedthisshitlastweekbutyoudidn’t!”
“Oh,becauseIwouldn’tfallinlinewithyourpreciouslittleterms?”Aseriesofthreehardbouncyballsricochetedoffmythigh.Theyweregoingtoleaveamark.“Youhavegottobefuckingkiddingme.”
“Iwastryingtomakethiseasieroneveryone,”Iyelled.
“Andwhothefuckaskedyoutodothat?”hecountered,whippingasmallcactusplushatmyface.“Idon’tneedyoulookingafterme.IfIneedtostapleafuckinglaceration,I’llstapleit—andjustsoyouknow,I’mfullyawarethatstaplesaren’trightineverycase.Ifuckingagreewithyoubutyou’retoobusyforce-feedingmetoevenhearthatand—”
“You’retoocondescendingtoforce-feed,”Isaid.
“Youarerelentless,”hepanted,hiseyesflashingwithheatandhisjawlockedinthemoststern,severeline.
BeforeIcouldreply,Milanaplacedherselfinthemiddleofourskirmish,herhandsout.“You’rebothrelentless—ordoyounotnoticeitinyourselvesthewayyouseeitineachother?Thathappensmorethanyouthink.It’ssimilartothewayoureyescanseeournosebutourbraininstructsustoignoreit.”Shegatheredthetoyswherethey’dlandedallaroundus.“Thankgodmystringofpearlswassparedinthisskirmish.Smallmercies,”shesaidunderherbreath.“Foryourhomeworkthisweek,I’dlikeyoutothinkaboutthat.Yourcommonalities—andwhytheytroubleyousomuch.”
ShedumpedthetoysintothecrateasSebastianandIlookedon.Wewerestillbreathingheavily,ourclothesdisheveledandmyhairwilderthaneveraswegloweredateachother.Iwasn’tgoingtosayhe’dstartedit—thoughhedid—orpretendhe’dbeentheonlyonetodeliversnarky,juvenilecomments.Butthewayhe’dlookedatmeashe’dsaidIwasrelentless,thewayhe’dstaredmedownasifhewastheonlyonewhocouldcallthetermsofthiswar—itmademecrazyenoughtowanttograbthatpineappleandtheeggplantandpelthimwiththemuntilhebeggedmeformercy.
Milanaglancedbetweenus.“Thatwillbeallfortoday.”
Withthat,Igrabbedmywhitecoatandboltedoutofthere.Ididn’tneedtobeaskedtwiceandIdidn’tneedanotherminutewiththatmantryingtostaremyskinoff.CHAPTER6SEBASTIAN
TherewereonlythreethingsIneededrightnow.
Getthehelloutofthishospital.
WatchthelatestcollegiatecheercompetitioninOrlandowhileshovelingaburritobowlintomymouth.
Sleepofftheshitshowthatwasthisday.
Itwasareallygoodplan,andifIcouldaccomplishthefirstitem,thelasttwowereboundtofallinlineforme.
Butthatwasn’thappening.No,ma’am.Nottoday.NotwhenIwalkedintotheattending’sloungeanhourafterthejugglefightfromhellonlytohaveShapiroplowrightintome.
“Oh,sorry,”shesaid.Butthen,“Um,hello?Youjustwalkintopeopleand—”
“Ididnothingofthesort,youblindlittlebat,”Iargued.“Youhead-plantedyourselfintomychestbecauseyouweren’tpayingattention.”
“Iwasfixingmyhair,”shefiredback.
“Youweren’tlookingwhereyouweregoing.”
“Youcouldapologize.”
“Youcouldgetoutofmyway.”
Onceagain,westaredateachother,neitherwillingtobackdown.Forfuck’ssake,thisladywasgoingtosendmetomygrave.ShewasaninetymileanhourdownwardspiralifI’deverseenoneandIcouldnotstopseeingher.Shewaseverywhere.Icouldn’tgoadaywithoutspottingherbrightyellowsneakersorallofthathair,andhervoicewouldn’tleavemealone.Shewashereatthehospital,shewasinmyapartmentbuilding,shewasevenyammeringatmeinmydreams.Andtoday—mygod,today—wasjustahot,horriblejourneytothecenteroftheearthwithher.
Therewasnoexitingthishostagesituation.
Irubbedthespotwhereherheadhadconnectedwithmychest.Shewasn’tespeciallytallsoshe’dnailedmerightonthemidlineofmypecs.
“Shutup,itdoesn’thurt,”shesaid.
She’dchangedoutofthatchemistryt-shirt,theoneI’dgrudginglyfoundamusing,andintoapalesweaterandtrousersthecolorofspilledredwine.Shelookedexpensive.Reallyfuckingexpensive.Likeitwouldcostmetotouchher.“Yourskullismadeofstone.”
“Doweactuallyhavetodothisagain?We’vespentenoughtimeyellingateachotherfornoreasontoday,don’tyouthink?”
Thedooropenedagain,thistimeadmittingCalHartshornandNickAcevedointotheroom.IdroppedmyheadbackandIrolledmyeyesattheceiling.Theywerethelastpeopleweneededtosee.
“Shap!Stremmel!”Hartshornboomed.“Canweinteresteitherofyouin—”
“I’mgonnastopyourightthere,”Isaid.“Whateveritis,no.Don’twantit,don’tneedit.Sellitelsewhere.Thankyou.Goodbyeandgoodnight.”
Acevedoapproachedus,hisgazeonShapiro.“Ishebotheringyou?”Acevedoasked,afingerpointedinmydirection.“WeruntogetherandIlikemakinghimsuffersopleasetellmethetruthorlieflagrantly,whichevergivesmemoretoworkwith.”
Sheglancedupatme,abrowarchedhighandaviciousglintinhereyes.ShewasgoingtotattleherassoffandIwasgoingto—
“Hardly,”shesaid.WithawaveforAcevedoandHartshorn,sheadded,“Goodevening”andslippedpastmeintothehall.
Whattheactualfuckwasthat?
IturnedandstaredatthedoorasifthatcouldexplainwhySaraskippedoutonaperfectlygoodopportunitytoputmyjackasseryondisplayfortheseguystosee.Whenthedoorfailedtoexplainagoddamnthingtome,Iretreatedtomylockertogetoutofthesescrubs.
“I’dloveitifyoudidn’trunShapirooutofhere,”Hartshornsaidashestrolledtohislocker.“Asfarasgiftsgoformethisholidayseason,thatwouldbeatthetopofmylist.”
“Iamnotrunninganyoneoutofanywhere.Wewerejusthavinga”—well,ithadbeenanotherridiculousfightaboutnothingbutIwasn’tgoingtotelltheseguysanyofthat—”conversation.”
“Youcouldtrybeingpleasanttoher.Wouldn’thurt,”Acevedosaid.
“Itwould.Notmybloodtype,”Ireplied.
“We’regettingabeersinceourwivesaretravelingforwork,”Hartshornsaid.“Comewith?”
“No.”Izippedupmycoatandheadedforthedoor.Ireallyneededsomecheerleadingtonight.Ididn’tknowwhatitwasaboutalltheglitterandhighponytailsbutitalwayschilledmeout.Somepeoplewatchedsitcomrerunsorlistenedtopodcasts.Otherspreferredwineandweed.Iwatchedcompetitivecheerleadingwhilesprawledonthesofa.
Itookashortcutthroughthehospitalcomplexthatletoutafewblocksfrommybuilding,effectivelyavoidingtheclusterfuckoftrafficatthehospital’smainexit.ItoggledbetweentextingO’RourkeandplacinganorderforthatburritobowlasIheadedhome.Everystepwasoneclosertoputtingthisfuckingdaytobed.
Iwasalmostthere.AllIhadtodowasgetinthebuildingandupthreeflightsofstairs,andI’dhaveallthesolitudeIwanted.
ExceptSarawascursingatthedoorandIwaspresentlyunabletowalkthroughwallswithoutinjuringmyself.Oh,myfuckinglife.
“What,”Icalled,stompingupthestonesteps,“thefuck.”
Shesighedfortenminutesbeforesaying,“Mykeyisstuck.”
“Move.”Whenshewentonscrewingwiththedoor,Itappedherupperarm,saying,“Move.”
“Ihaveit,”shesnapped.
“Obviously,youdon’t.”
“Ifyou’djustgivemeaminute—”
“You’vehadaminute,”Isaid.
“Yourreactionisexcessiverelativetothissituation.”
Ishookmyheadandhopedsomelightningwouldstrikeandputmeoutofmymisery.“Myreactionisnottheproblem.”
“Yourreactionisalwaystheproblem,”shecried,abandoningthedoortowhirlaroundandstepintomyspace.“Whydoyoualwayshavetoberight?Evenwhenitdoesn’tmatter?”
I’dassumedhereyeswerebrownbutIwaswrongaboutthat.Theywerehazel—mostlygoldenamberwithflecksofbrownandgreen.Theywerelighterupclosethantheyseemedatapolitedistance.Iwasn’tpolite.
“Idon’tgiveagoodfuckaboutright.Ijustwanttogetupstairsandchangeintosoftpantsbeforemyburritobowlarrives.”
ShenarrowedherhazeleyesatmeandIcouldtellbythewayherlipscurledthatshewasabouttogutmehereonthestoop.“Youaresucha—”
“Ohhey,guys.”
WeturnedatoncetofindRileyWalshcomingthroughthedoor.HespiedSara’skeyshangingfromthelockandfreedthemwithonedeftturnofthehandle.RileylivedonthesecondfloorwithhiswifeAlex.HehatedmeonaccountofmeattemptingtoflirtwithAlexinfrontofhimonseveraloccasionsbeforetheywereengaged.Ihadn’tinyearsbutthatdidn’tdeterhimfromgivingmedeathglareseverytimewecrossedpaths.
So,daily.Dailydeathglares.Foryears.Funtimesformehereinthedoctordorm.
“Wasthisthingstickingagain?It’stheweather.Wheneverit’sdamplikethis,oldhardwaregetswonky.”Hepointedtothehingesandpanel.“Thewoodswellstoo.”
Saragrabbedherkeysfromhim,saying,“Thanks.Maybeit’stimetoreplacethisdoorsoitcanfunctioninallweatherconditions.”
“I’mgoingtopretendyoudidn’tsuggestweditchadoorfrom1880simplybecauseitreactstotheweather,”herepliedashejoggeddownthesteps.“You’rehurtingmypreservationistheart.”
SarapushedherwayinsideandmadeanotableeffortatslammingtheouterdooronmyfacebutIwasrightbehindherandcaughtitasshethrewopenthenextdoorintothefoyer.Ididn’tunderstandwhythisplacehadsomanydoorsthatallledfromonelittleroomintoanother—vestibule,foyer,entryhall—butitmeantIgottorepeatedlythwartSara’sattemptsatmakingafuck-tonofnoise.
“You’retheonewhocan’tstandtobewrong,”Isaidtoherback.
“That’srichcomingfromyou.”
Shewenttoherdoor,shakingherheadandmurmuringtoherselfasshefumbledwithherkeys.Herdoorstoodtotheleftofthesteep,windingstaircase,andsinceIdidn’thavetolookathereyesanymore,Ishould’vebeenonmywayandoutofthismess.Iwantedtoleave.Igrippedthebanister,steppedontothefirststair.
But—“Couldyoupresspauseonallyourslammingandscreeching,andexplaintomewhatyou’resopissedoffabout?BecauseI’dreallyliketoknow.”
Shegaveadark,brittlelaugh.“Idoubtthat.”
“Okay.You’reright.Idon’treallycarewhyyou’resopissedoff.Ijustwantittostop.”
Sheturnedslowly.“Whatyouwantistoavoidallconsequencesofyouractions.”
Iabandonedthestairsbecausethisshitcouldnotgounaddressed.“Myactions?Andwhoisholdingyouaccountableforyouractions?”
Shebroughtherhandstohertemples,shakingherhead.“Youhaveallthepowerhereandit’safuckinggametoyou.”
“It’snot,”Isaid.Ididn’tknowwhenI’dcrossedthefoyerbutIwascloseenoughtofindthegreeninhereyesagain.“It’snotafuckinggame,Shap.Itneverwas.”
SheflungherarmsoutwideandIcaughtherwristbeforeitsmashedintothebanister’sthick,roundnewelpost.“Youneedtobemorecareful.”
Herpulsethrummedundermythumbassheblinkedupatme.Iwatchedher,waitingforthenextbitingcommentfromthatwickedtongueofhers,anotherblisteringglare,anything.Whatevershehadtogive,Iwasreadyforit.Iwantedit.
Butthenshepartedherlipsandlookedatmewiththosebiggolden-greeneyesandIlostmyfuckingmind.
IadvancedintoherspaceandshovedahandintoallthatwavyblondehairandIstoleherlips,takingeverythingIwanted,justfuckingtakingitall.Therewasasplitsecondwhentheonlyresponsewasasqueakinherthroatbutthen—then—shesoftenedandsighedandeverythingthatoncewasceasedtoexistbecausetherewasnogoingback.Notforeitherofus.
Iropedanarmaroundherwaistandbackedherupagainstthedoorasshefistedherhandinmyshirtandsankherteethintomybottomlip.IthurtlikehellandIrespondedbypinningherhipstothedoor.Shepurred,thoughitwasapurrinthewayacheetahpurredbeforerippingyourthroatout.
Ientertainednothoughtastowhetherthiswasright,wrong,orfuckingsuicidal.ShewasasperfectlyviciousasshelookedandIcouldn’tgetenough,andnoneofthosethoughtswould’vetrumpedthattruth.Icouldnotstopkissingher,touchingher,justfuckinginhalingherasshefoughtmeforcontrolbecauseofcoursewefought.Ofcoursewedid.
Shetoreherlipsawayonlytodragthemdownmyneckandlightmyskinonfire.“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”
“Thisisanotheroneofthosemomentswhenyoushouldshutup.”Iranmyhandoverherass,exploringallthatlush,gloriousskinthroughhertrousers.Themoreappropriatedescriptionwould’vebeenfondlingormanhandlingastherewasnothingpolitehappeninghere.Nothinggentleortentative.Thiswasn’tevendecent.No,fuckno.Itwasasirreverentaseverythingwaswithus.
Idraggedmyhandtoherthigh,downtothebackofherleg.Ibroughtherkneetomywaistandnotchedmyselfbetweenherlegs,andifI’dthoughtI’dcrossedalineafewminutesago,Idroppedabombonthoselinesbygrindingmycockwhereshewantedit.Shepurredagainandtherewasplentyofmurderinthatsoundbutnowpureneedwaswovenintoittoo.
“Youlikethat,don’tyou?”Iasked.“Istheresomethingyouwanttoaskme?”
Sheyankedmyshirtfrommytrousersandranherhandovermytorso,rudeandpossessiveandperfectwithherfingersclawing,digging,clinging.“You’resuchanasshole.”
Islippedmyfingersfreeofherhairtocurlthemaroundthebackofherneck.“You’renothingifnotconsistent.”
Shereachedformybeltanditseemedentirelypossibleshe’dwhipmewithitifIdidn’ttieitaroundherwristsfirst.“There’snothinginthisworldI’daskyoufor.”
IpriedherhandoffmybeltbeforethingsgotfullyoutofcontrolandIspunheraroundtofacethedoor.Herhandslandedflatonthepanel,hercheektoo.Ileanedintoher,mylipscoastingoverherneck,herearlobe.Herskinwasmagic.Demonicmagicbutwasn’tthatthebestkindofmagic?Itwasthebestforme.
Givemeallyourhellfire,honey.Givemeyourworst.
Andshesmelledamazing.TherewasnosingularscentIcouldidentifybuteverybreathofherwasmaddeninglylovelyandprecious.Maddening.Havingherlikethisleftmefuriousyetsomehowdesperateformore.LikeIdidn’thaveenoughproblems.
“Thendon’task,”Isaid.SheshudderedasIpassedahandbetweenherbreastsanddownherbelly.Islippedmypalmbetweenherthighs,cuppingtheheatofherforamomentbeforegivingherahard,profanesqueeze.Itwaswrong.Sowrong.“Don’task.TellmewhatyouwantandI’llgiveittoyou.”
Ikeptmyfaceburiedagainstherneckandmypalmonthemostdangerouscatintheknownworld.ItwasallIcoulddo.
Thenajinglesounded,followedbythemetalliczipofakeyintoalock.Sheheavedoutahaltingbreath.“Don’tthinkforaminutethatI’mfinisheddespisingyou.”
Ipressedmyteethtoherneck,holdinghersteadywithanarmaroundherwaist.“Couldn’tevenifItried.”
Sheopenedthedoorand—tobecompletelyhonest,Ihadnoideahowwegotintothebedroom.Therewerewallsandcornersanddoorsbutmyonlyprioritywaskeepingmyhandsandmouthonherbodyatallcosts.I’dsucceededatthat,seeingasIhadherflatonherbackandherpantsflyingovermyshoulder.
“Getthatsweateroff,”Ibarked.“Showmethoseprettytits.”
Thesweatersailedovermyhead.“I’mgoingtopretendyoudidn’tsaythat.”
“WhatwouldyoupreferIsay?”
IkeptbothhandsonherthighsasIdroppedmykneestothefloor.Ijustwantedtofeelthatsatinskinagainstmycheek.ThatwasallIneeded.Afterthat,I’dgiveheranythingshewantedbeforeIwokeupfromthissexnightmare.Wasthatarealthing,asexnightmare?Andwasthatwhatwashappeningnow?Becauseitwasn’tadream.Perhapsahiccupinmyconsciousnessorasnaginthespace-timecontinuumbutdefinitelynotadream—asidefromthefactIwasabouttorubmyfacealloverherandlickheruntilshecried.Asidefromthat,notadream.
“I’dpreferyounotpretendmytitsareanythingworthtalkingabout,”shesaid,whippingherbraatmyhead.
“You’retellingmeIhavetodealwithyourinsecuritiestoo?JesusChrist.”Ipressedonehandtoherpanty-coveredpussy,tappedafingeragainstthewetspotwaitingforme,andthendraggedtheotherhandupoverthesoftriseofherbellytothesmallbutdefinitelyprettytits.Hernippleswerelargeandpale,duskypink,andgatheredintightpebbles.Iwantedtobitethemmorethananythingelseintheworld.“It’samusingthatyouthinkI’dbullshitmywaythroughthiswithemptycomplimentsbutI’mgonnahavetodisappointyou.Idon’tknowhowtogiveemptycompliments,certainlynottoyou.Yourtitsarepretty.Dealwithit.”
“Youare—”
“Whateveryou’regoingtosay,don’t.Justdon’t.I’mgettingridofthesepantiesandthenI’mgonnaspendalotoftimelickingyourclit.Alotoftime.Probablytoomuchbuttheideaoftorturingyoudoesrealgoodthingstome.Theconversationendsnow.Understood?”
Sheblinkedatmedownthesoft,curvedlineofherbody.Myeyescouldn’tstopeatingherup.Herinsecuritiescouldfuckrightoffbecausetherewasnothingbutplush,annoyingperfectioninoffrontme.ThatIwasturnedonenoughbythiswomantobedizzywashighlyinconvenient.
“I’mgoingtopullyourhair,”shesaid.
Thatseemedlikeenoughofaninvitationtogetridofthepanties.“Goforit,”Ireplied,pushingherthighsapartandrunningmyknucklesdownthecenterofher.Ialreadyknewshewasgoingtotastelikeheaven.Thescentofheralonehadmegrowlingintothesilkysmoothofherleg,teethbared.“StranglemeforallIcare.IfIdie,Idie.”
Alaughrolledoutofher,asoundIcouldn’tremembereverhearingbefore.IfoundmyselfsmilingupatherwhileIsuckedonherthighandpetherpussy.Itwasn’tsupposedtobelikethis.Weweren’tsupposedtostopandgrinateachother.Weweresupposedtohateeachother,toresenteachother,tocuteachotherdownateveryturn—andthatwasallthereminderIneededthatnoonewasthinkingrightnow.Therewasnowayinhellwe’dcomeoutofthisanybetterthanwewentin.Oddswerehighitwouldbemuch,muchworsebutIreallyneededtofeelherclitonmytonguesoIdidn’tcareabouttheimpendingmisery.Ididnotcare.
Ishovedbothhandsunderherassanddraggedhertotheedgeofthebed,justwhereIwantedher.Sheyelpedandflailedabit,butitwasn’tlikeIwasgoingtoletherfalloffthebedsoIbittheinsideofherthightoquietherdown.Itwasalogicalsolutiontomealthough—
“Didyoujustbiteme?”
IsweptmytongueoverherclitbecauseImeantwhatIsaidabouttheconversationbeingfinished.Mycockdidn’thavethepatienceforthisandfrankly,neitherdidI.“Yes.Enoughtalkingfromyou.Can’tyouseeI’mbusy?”
Ihookedherkneeovermyshoulderandpushedtwofingersinsideher.ShewaswetlikeIcouldn’tbelieveandIdidn’twanttolovehowincredibleshefelt.Herclitthrobbedagainstmytongueandthatalmostdidmein.Iwasn’taboveadmittingit.Imean,Ididn’thavetolikehertonearlyblowitbecauseImadeherclithappy.
TherewasaminutewhereallIdidwaslickthatsweetpearlandrubherpussywhileSarashookandgroanedagainstme.Shehadherbottomlipsnaredbetweenherteeth,herhandsbusyballingthebedlinens.Butthenshesatup,halfherhairfallingfromitstieandherlipspinkandswollen,andshesaid,“Ican’ttakethisanymore.”
Inthetimeittookmetopeelmymouthoffherbody,shereachedformyshirt,slippedherfingersbetweentheplacket,andtoreitthefuckopen.Buttonspingedoffthewalls,thefurniture.Ididn’tknowwhatwasgoingonuntilshefistedherhandsaroundtheremainsofmyshirtandjerkedmeuptohermouth.Shekissedmelikeshewasdrowningandneededtheair.
“Ican’t,Ican’t,”shewhisperedagainstmylips.“Ican’twait.”
“Whydidn’tyousayso?”
“Becauseyouhadthiswholespeechaboutlickingmyclitanditsoundedreallygreat—damnyouforthat,bytheway—butIcanonlycomeonceandit’sneververygoodwhenit’soraland—”
“That’senough.”Ipushedherbackdowntothebed.Ishruggedoutoftheshirt,broughtmyhandstomybelt.HadtofocusononethingatatimeorelseI’djogbacktothewholeit’sneververygoodwhenit’soralandIcanonlycomeoncebusinessanddisprovesomehypotheses.Noneedtothreatenmewithallthesegoodtimes.“Wheredoscreechowlskeeptheircondoms?”
Shepointedtothebluebureaubesideherbed.Iflungitopen,siftedthroughthenonsensethere.Prescriptionbottles,lotionbottles,amillionhairscrunchies.Then,wayintheback,anunopenedboxofcondoms.
Mycold,shriveledheartgaveastupidkickatthat.Goddamncavemanbrain.
Idroppedmypants,broughtakneetothemattress,rolleddownthecondom.
“That’sjustunfair,”shewhinedwithadismissivewavetomycock.“Youdon’tdeserveallthat.”
“MaybeIdon’tbutyougettouseit,sowe’reeven.”ThatIwasstandinghereandstaringdownatherwhileIstrokedmycockratherthanblackedoutandballsdeepwasremarkable.Ididn’tknowwhoIwasrightnoworhowIgotsofuckingsmoothbutherewewere.“Let’sgetyouwhereyouneedtogobeforeyouripmyspineout,shallwe?”
“Assumingyouknowhowtousethatthing,yeah.”Herhairwasagod-awfulmessandIkindalovedit.Wantedtopullitjusttoseeifshe’dscream.Wantedtoscoopitallupandholditbackwhilesheswallowedmycock.Iwantedeverything,whichseemedlikeaterribleidea.“Istillhateyou.”
“Trustme,Iknow.”Isettledbetweenherthighs.ShewassopalenexttomethatIhadtopressahandtoherlegjusttoadmirethedifference.Shewasrawsilktomysunbakedleather.“You’rethefuckingworst.”
ShereachedformeasInotchedmyselfatheropening,ranherhanddownmychestandslippedherfingersthroughthedarktrailthere.Ialmostdiedfromthatwhisperedexploration.IwaspreparedforhertoripmyhairoutandkeepitasatrophybutIwasn’tpreparedforhertobegentle.“Youshouldknowthisiscompletelyinsane.You’renotallowedtolooklikethis.”
“Whynot?”
Ididn’thaveitinmetotakeitanyslowereventhoughslowwastheonlywaytogoforseveralreasons.First,IintendedtoworkmyassoffatgettinghertheretwicebecauseIdidn’twalkawayfromchallenges.Second,andmostimportantly,thishadtoblowhermind.Shecouldholleratmeaboutstaplesandwhateverthefuckelseshewantedbutshewasn’tgoingtoholleratmeaboutlastingfortwominutesandpassingoutontopofher,evenifherpussywasforgedfromdemonmagic.
WegroanedtogetherasIpushedinsideher.Therewasnothingbetter,notagoddamnthingbetterthanthatfirstclasp.Idroppedahandbesidehershoulder,settledtheotheronherhip.Ileaneddown,brushedakissoverherlipsonceIwasfullyseatedbetweenherthighs.“Whynot?”Irepeated.
Sheshiftedbeneathme,broughtherkneesuptomywaistasshelinkedherarmsaroundmyneck.Ididn’tthinkIcouldgetanydeeperbutherpussyprovedmewrong.“Becauseyou’resupposedtobehideousunderyourclothes,notsomeslabofcarvedfreakinggranite.Andyou’retanandgoldeneverywhere.It’sobnoxious.Noonewithyourpersonalityshouldbethishotandendowed.Shouldn’tbeallowed.”
Myhipsstartedrolling,buckingagainsther,andittookmeafewsecondsbutIquicklyrealizedwefiteachotherinthebestways.Sarawaspetitebutshehadthesewide,gorgeoushipsthatheldmetightandclose.ShewassoftlikeIcouldn’tbelieve,likeshewasmadeforallthehardIhadtogive.Herwaistwasnippedjustenoughformyhandstospanthedistancebetweentheflareofherhipsandtheundersideofherbreasts.Hertitsfilledthecupofmypalm.Andhercunt…well,thatwouldbetheendofme.“Fuck,you’renotallowedtofeellikethis.Jesus,why?Whycan’tyoubecoldandtoothy?”
“Toothy?”
Shearchedback,herchinpointedattheceiling,lipsparted.IwantedtolickherneckandIdidn’tevenknowwhatthatwasabout.Nothingmadesenseanymore.Allthatexistedwastherockofherbodyagainstmineandthehot,dizzygatheringofsensationdownmyspine.ItstartedattheplacewhereherfingerspressedintothenapeofmyneckandendedwhereIpressedintoher.Thatwasit.Thatwaseverything.
“Yeah,youseemlikethekindofwomanwho’downapussythatwouldjustbiteadickclearoff,”Isaid.Shepushedahandthroughmyhair.Myeyesrolledbackinmyhead.Ifeltthathandeverywhere.“Apparently,you’renotthehunterI’dexpected.”
“Icanbeahunter.Letmegiveitatry.”Sheclenchedaroundme,hermuscleskickingandflutteringandsuckingthemarrowrightoutofme.Imadeaslurringattemptatspeechandthenhidthatdisasterwithanopen-mouthedkisstoherneck.Icouldliveinthisspotforever.“Isthatthekindofhuntingyouhadinmind?”
“You’rewicked,”Igrowled.
“You’reanasshole.”
“Soyou’vesaid.”IduckedawayfromherneckasIgrabbedherwaistwithbothhands.IttookalotofconcentrationtofuckherandfightheratthesametimebutIalsowantedtokeepeveryounceofit,everyminute.Iwantedtoshovetheseinsultsintomypocketsandswallowupeverylittletouchandgroanshegaveme.“Ithinkyoulikeit.”
Shetwistedherfingersaroundmyhairandpulledasshe’dpromised.Ileanedintoherhand,wantingmoreofthatglorioustorment.I’ddiefromitifsheletme.“Idon’tlikeanythingaboutyou.”
Ipulledallthewayback,mycockbarelybrushingherfolds.“Nothing?”
Shehookedalegaroundmywaist,urgedmecloser.“Whoseinsecuritiesrequiretendingnow?”
Ididn’trespond,insteadturningmyattentiontohernippleswhileIworkedherovermycock.Therewassomethingmagicalinthatcombinationfromthewayherlipspartedandhereyesglazedover,andIrodeitallthewaythroughthequietestscreechI’deverheardfromher.I’dexpectedaloudthrash,maybesomescratching.Igotnoneofit.Justanexquisitelittlesighandafull-bodyshudderthattestedthelimitsofmycontrol.
“Oh,wow,”shewhispered,blinkingupatmewithastartledsmile.“That—”
“Nope.Nothappening.”Ipulledout,shiftedtotheside,andflippedheronherbelly.“Here’swhatwe’redoingnow.Comehere.ScootbackunlessyouwantmedraggingyouandyouknowIwill.Givemethatass.That’smydickhunter,righthere,goodgirl.”IpressedahandbetweenhershoulderbladesasIstationedmyselfatherentrance.Shewasstillthrobbingandwetlikeawaterfall.“Ireallydon’twanttolikeyourpussyasmuchasIdobutit’smadeoutofdemonicmagicsoI’mhelplesshere.”
InsteadofwaitingforSaratorespond,Itookholdofherhipsandthrustinsideher.Heatspiraledthroughmeandallthebickeringandbullshitbetweenustookabackseattoinstinct.Therewasnothingleftbuttwobodiesthatfittogetherinintolerablygoodways,andthesebodiesknewexactlywhattodotoeachother,evenwhenwecouldbarelyfunctionbeyondourmutualhostility.
Ihadtobehonest,thingstookawildturnatthatpoint.Morewildthanallthepreviousturnsinthissquaredance.Thepillows—andtherewereanumberofthem—wentflying.Igrabbedherhair,gaveitaroughtwist.Theblanketswerefullyfucked.Somethingfelloffherbureauandlandedwithaclatter.Iranmyknucklesdowntheseamofherass,diditharderwhenshecriedandbuckedagainstme.ThenIsaidsomemortifyingthingsabouthowshemademefeel.Shesaidsomeequallymortifyingthingsaboutmycock.
Ididn’tevenknowhowI’dlastedthislongbuttheshiver-pulselowinmybellysaidIdidn’thavemuchlonger.
“Beagoodgirlandgiveittomenow,”Ibarked.“YourpussycanbuyandsellmysoulforallIcarebutyouwon’tbeabletogetridofmeuntilyoucomeonmycockonemoretime.”
“Ican’t,”sheyelledintotheblankets.
“Thisisnotthetimeforyourinsecuritiestopayusavisit,”Isaid.“Youcanandyouwill.Icanfeelit.Stoptryingtoberightallthetimeandletithappen.Letgo.”
ThatwasprobablythesexequivalentoftellingsomeonetocalmdownbutIdidn’tcare.Ididn’thavetimetocareandIjustdidn’twantto.IwantedhertodoasIfuckingsaidthefirsttimeandletmegiveherwhatshewanted,butsincethatwasn’tanoption,Ipressedhardbelowherbellybutton.Itwasenoughpressuretomakeallofthismuchmoreintensewhichsheconfirmedbyscreaming“Ihateyou”intothemattress.
ShecouldhatemeallshewantedbecauseIwasverybusykeepingmyselfontherightsideofconsciousness.SobusythatInearlymissedthefirstfluttersandshuddersofherbodyjoiningthetwo-timersclub.
“Thereitis,”Igrowled.“That’sagoodgirlforme.”
TheysaidpleasurewasaproductofthemindandIhadproblemswiththatassertionbutthistimeitwastrue.Whetheritwasthesatisfactionofprovingherwrongforonceorthejoyofcommandingherbodytomeetmydemands,IneedednootherinvitationtocurlmyselfaroundherandfillthecondominaseriesofjerksandspasmssoviolentIwasconcernedI’dcrackedarib.
Westayedfrozeninthatawkward,sweat-soakedpositionforafewminuteswhilewetriedtocatchourbreath.ApeculiarlittlevoiceinmyheadwantedmetobrushherhairawayfromherfaceandtucktheblanketsuptohershouldersbutIwasn’tdoingthat.Peculiarvoicesgotmeintrouble.TheywereprobablythereasonIwashereinthefirstplace.
AnelbowconnectedwithmyflankandSarasaid,“Kindlygetyourslabofgraniteassoffme.”
Irolledtothesidewithagrunt.Iblindlypattedthebedsidetable,thrilledwhenmyhandconnectedwithaboxoftissues.Thiscondomrequiredattentionbuttheselegsweren’treadyforstandingofanysort.NotunlessIwantedtoturnthisintoaslapstickcomedyroutine,andIwastoooldforthat.
Acouplemoreminutespassedwithonlyourraggedbreathingandthecreaksofanoldhometosetthesoundtrack.
Whereitcametofuckingthewordsoutofawomanwhovoraciouslyhatedme,Iwasunclearontheappropriateaftercare.WasIsupposedtohangout?Thatcouldn’tberight.Wassheexpectinganotherround?Icouldbetalkedintothatbutitwasgoingtobeahellofalotlessathleticanditwouldn’tbewithoutsomefluidsfirst.OrwasIsupposedtoleave?Justwalkoutand…what?Thiscouldn’tbetheend.
Andwhatfreshhellwasthatfuckingthought?No,thiswasover.Iwasahundredpercentcertainofthat.ItwasafuckingmistakeifI’deverseenoneandnowitwasover.Done,finished,soulsoldtothesharp-toothedcuntinthefirstrow.
Itossedtheballed-uptissueintothewastebasketbesidethebed.“Whatwasthatyou’dsaidaboutonlycomingonce?”
Shereachedouttoswatmeforthatbutcaughtastraypillowinstead.“Shutup,Stremmel.”
“Thatiswhatyousaidthough.Thatyoucanonlygetthereonce.”Iwasbeingadickhead.Iknewthat.ItneverescapedmynoticewhenIwasbehavinglikeacompleteandtotalmiscreant.StoppingmyselfwhenI’dstumbleddownthispathwasoftentheissue.ItwaseasiertodropdeadthanitwastoshutmyselfuponceI’dstarted.“ItseemsIprovedyouwrong.”
“Ithinkyoushouldleave,”shemumbledintothepillow.
Iturnedmyheadinherdirection.Icouldn’tseeherfacebutfuck,herbodyreallywasamazing.Ireacheddown,grabbedherass.“That’sprobablyagoodidea.”
“Thenwhatareyoudoing?”
“Don’tknow,”Imurmured.“IguessIjustlikemakingthemostofmybaddecisions.”
Sarapushedupfromthemattress,shakingoffmyhand.Herbacktome,shetossedherhair,saying,“Don’tbeherewhenIgetback.”
Iwatchedherwalktotheadjoiningbathroomonlegsshewaspretendingweren’tshaking.Thelockclickedbehindherthenthefaucetturnedon.Thewallswerethinenoughformetohearherslapherhandsagainstthesinkandblowoutabreath.
Afteraminuteofwillingmylimbstowork,Istartedhuntingformyclothes.Ihadtoperchonthecornerofherbedtostepintomyboxersandtrouserstosavemyselffromwobblingstraightintoawall.MyshirtwaswreckedthoughIcouldn’thelpadmiringthewreck.Tinytornadostruckagain.
Ilocatedoneshoe,thentheother,andtookamomenttostudySara’sapartmentasIsteppedintothem.ItwasdifferentthanwhenHartshornlivedhere.Thewallswereafreshnewcolor,thekitchencabinetssprucedup,thefurnitureinpalepinks,yellows,andblueswithlotsofdeeptealvelvet.Awomanlivedherenowanditshowed.
IpattedmypocketstoconfirmIhadallthedevicesI’denteredwith—godhelpmeifIhadtocomebackheretonightformyphone—andnoticedanopenshelflinedwithglassesbesidethekitchensink.Therewasnothingspecialabouttheseglasses.TheymatchedtherestofSara’spastel-ystuff—allrosequartzpink,wateryblue,sunnyyellow,mintgreen—andIwouldn’thavecaredbutIcouldn’treconcilethatbadassbulldozerofawomandrinkingoutofaprincesspinkglass.
Fornogoodreasonatall,Ishuffledintothekitchenandpickeduponeofthoseglasses.Itwasadorable.Itreallywas.ButSarawasn’tadorable.Shewas…fuck,shewasacutthroatqueen.She’dkillmeandanyoneelsestandinginherway,and,inaverysex-foggedway,Iappreciatedthatabouther.Evenifitwasagiantpaininmyass.
SinceIwasalreadyholdingit,Iheldtheglassunderthetapandfilledit.ItonlytookamomenttoreturntoSara’sroomandsetitonthebedsidetable.Ipausednearthebathroomdoor.Therewerenoappropriatepartingwordsforthissituation—theoopsIjustfuckedthewomanIhateandyes,Idohavetoslogthroughtwomonthsofconflictresolutionsessionswithhersituation—butIcouldn’tgetoutofthegravitationalpullofthismomentuntilIforcedmyselfoutofit.
“Lockthedoor,okay?”
Shegaveoneofthoseshort,huffysighs,theonessmotheredinannoyanceandeyerolls.Then,“Shutup.”
Iwasanexpertinnothingbutthatsoundedtomelike“Yeah,babe,itwasgreatformetoo.”
Istumbledoutintothefoyer,myshirthangingopenandmyjacketinaballundermyarm.Thisplacelookeddifferent.Also,mylegsfeltaboutassolidasgravy.Walkingmorethanafewstepsatatimewasrough.Also,concerning.Itwasn’tlikethisthelasttimeI’dhadsex.Itwasneverlikethis.Whatkindofsorcerywasshekeepinginthatcunt?
Istartedforthestairsbutthefrontdoorbuzzerstoppedme.Also,mybrainwasgravy.Itwassafetosaythatgravyhadreplacedtheinternalcontentsofmybody.
Icrossedtothedoor,realizingasIturnedtheboltthatitwasthedeliverypersonwiththeburritobowlI’dorderedinapreviouslife,onewhereIhadn’tfuckedawomanIwantedasmuchasIwantedtostrangleher.
Anditwentbothwaysbecauseshe’dtakenmycocklikesheownedit,butthere’dbeenmorethanafewmomentswhenshe’dlookedatmelikeshewasdebatingwhetheritwouldbedifficulttodisposeofmybody.ShehatedmemorethananyoneelsehadeverhatedmeandIhadabitofexperiencewithbeingeveryone’sleastfavoriteperson.
IacceptedmyorderandwavedtothedeliverypersonasIretreatedintothesceneofthecrime.Icouldn’tseethisspacewithoutrememberingeverything,buttheonethingthatelbowedouttherestwasthebeatofherpulseagainstmythumb.
Istaredatherdoorforaminuteortwo.Iwasn’tsurehowlongitwas,onaccountofthegravyandall.
Whatthefuckhadhappenedheretonight?Andwhatthefuckhappenednow?CHAPTER7SARA
Alex:Mysister-in-lawandIaregoingoutforpedicurestonight.Wanttocomealong?
Alex:Iknowyoudon’tlovethehugegroupoutingthingbutit’sjustmeandAndythistime.I’msureyourememberher.Ibroughtyoutoherholidayparty.Wealsowenttothefarmersmarketwithherinthesummer.She’syourvibe,youlikeher.
Alex:IjustcheckedtheboardandI’mnotseeingyouscheduledforanyORs…
Alex:Okay,well,I’mjustgoingtoassumeyou’reatyogaoroutsomewhere,orsomething.Ifyouseethislateranddecideyouwanttomeetup,shootmeatext.We’reprobablygoingtostopatanewspotAndy’sbeentellingmeaboutintheSeaportforsomedrinksandnibblesafter.
Alex:Oh,shit,IforgotthisisthedayyouhaveyourmeetingswithStremmelfortheconflictstuff.That’swhyyou’renotontheboardandnotrespondingtotexts.Sorry!Mybad.
Alex:Ifyouneedtodecompressfromthat,here’stheaddressoftherestaurant.Justsoyouknow,it’snotsuperbusyhere.Notloudatall.Andweorderedtheentireappetizermenu,sothere’sfoodfor8regularpeopleor2-3hungrygirls.
Alex:Justgivemesomesignoflife,okay?OrproofyouandStremmelhaven’tbeenarrested.Eitherone.
Sara:Sorry!I’msosorry!I’maliveandnotunderarrest.
Alex:Phew.IwasgettingreadytocallHartshornforbailmoney.
Sara:WhyHartshorn?
Alex:Whynot?Hecanaffordit.
Sara:You’reprobablyright.
Alex:IknowI’mright.Nowthatyou’realive,doyouwanttojoinus?Iwouldloveadramaticreenactmentoftoday’sevents.
Sara:Idon’tknowiftoday’seventsarefitforadrinks-and-appsdiscussion.
Alex:There’snothingyoucan’tsayoverdrinksandapps.Iswearit.
Sara:Whilethatmaybetrue…
Alex:You’reright.It’snotcool.You’realsoamilliontimesmorematurethanmesocongratulationsonthat.
Sara:Notsureaboutthat,myfriend.
Alex:Believeme,youarethemature,sophisticatedonehere.I’mtheonewhocrammedhalfaroom-tempbarbecueranchpizzaintohermouthbeforesurgeryat5a.m.,isgoingtodryshampooherselfbaldsoonerorlater,andwantstocacklewithyouoverthestupidpunishmentyou’reenduringwithStremmel.
Sara:Well…Ihaveafewquestionabledecisionsofmyown.
Alex:Nameone.
Sara:SebastianStremmel.
Alex:Isnorted.Iactuallysnorted.
Sara:Ibet.
Alex:There’sliquorinmynose.Thanks.
Sara:Enjoyyourdrinksandapps.SayhitoAndyforme.Ihavetoputmyselfbacktogethernow.
Alex:You’refunny.Youknowthat?You’rereallyfuckingfunny,Shap.
Sara:That’sastrangewayofpronouncingself-destructive.
Alex:Youarenotself-destructive!Youarefierce!Youareafuckingbadasssurgeonandyoutakezeroshitfromtheshitsellers!
Sara:ExceptontheoccasionswhenItakealltheirshitandcan’tevenstopmyselffromenjoyingit.
Alex:IknowyouandIknowyoudon’tdothat!Whatareyoueventalkingabout?Heresy,that’swhatthisis.
Sara:Honey,areyouintheORtomorrow?Becausethismightbethetimetoswitchovertowaterifyouare.
Alex:Nope!
Sara:Carryon,then.CHAPTER8SARA
Iwasanexpertatpretendingnothingwaswrong.Itwasmyoldestandmostconvincingtrick.Nothingoutoftheordinary,nothingtoseehere.Definitelynocatastrophicsexmistakes.
Nope.Noneofthat.
Afterafull—andblessedlydistracting—morningofsurgery,IfinallyhadabreakandwantedtousethistimetowalktheThoreauPathintheWestEndneighborhoodthatbracketedthehospitalcomplex.IfeltbetterwhenIwentoutsideandputmyfaceinfrontofthesuneveryday.EvenbetterifIburnedoffsomenervousenergyintheprocess.Itwouldn’teraseanyofyesterday’scatastrophesbutitwouldhelpchaseawaytheworst-casescenarioschillingoutintheforefrontofmymind.
Iheadedforthestairwellatthefarendofthewing,theonenooneelseusedbecauseitdead-endedonthesecondfloorandrequiredajourneypastabunchofofficestoreachanactualexit.
GlancingatthenotificationsonmyphoneasIdescendedthestairs,Ididn’trealizeuntiltoolatethatIwasn’talone.
Sebastiandidn’tnoticemerightaway,anditwasagoodthingbecauseIneededasecondtofortifymyself.Hewaswearinganothersetofnear-deathscrubsandthatannoyedmefornogoodreason.Imean,didhehavetobearaincloudallthetime?Andagainwiththeforearms.Really.Thiswasbecomingflagrant.Itwaslikehewantedmestaring.
Heprobablyrelishedtheattention.Look,ladiesandgentlemen,lookatthesearms!Theycanflipyouonyourbellyandfuckyoufrombehindbeforeyoucansayyes,please.
Wereachedthelandingatalmostthesametimeanditwashilarioustowatchasrecognitionslackenedthepermafrostofhisscowl.
Ihadnointentionofstoppingtochatwithhim—asiftherewasanythingtochatabout.Oh,yes,you’reright,youaretheonlypersontogivemeanorgasmwithoutprolongedandsignificantattentiontomyclit.Andtwoofthem!Sogoodofyoutoremindme.
AsifSebastianhadexactlythatdiscussioninmind,hereachedfortherailingsoneithersideofthestairsandtrappedmeonthelanding.Icould’veretreatedupthestairssoIwasn’ttrulytrappedbutthegesturemadehisprerogativeplain.
“Thereyouare.”Hemanagedtosoundexasperatedashesaidthis,asifI’dbeenavoidinghim.
Obviously,thatwasnotthecase.ImerelyleftmyapartmenttwohoursearlierthanusualtotakeayogaclassintheBackBaybeforeworkandbypassedtheattendingsurgeons’loungeentirelywhenIarrivedatthehospital.Noavoidancetobefound.
“HereIam.”Igestureddownthestairs.“There,Iamgoing.”
“Waitjustaminute.”Hewincedbeforedraggingaglanceupfrommysneakerstosettleonmyplainhospital-issuedscrubv-neck.“Nowordyt-shirttoday?”
Ishookmyhead.Not-shirttodaybecauseIneverwenttoyogabeforework,andIfailedtobringtherightclothesinmyhastetogetoutthedoor.“Evidently.”
Thefrowndissolvedintohisusualscowl,andtherewasasecondwhereheloomedoverme,histhick,ropedarmsstretchedoutandhisjawscruffierthanever,whereheseemedtobestaringatmymouth.
Butthenheruineditbyspeaking.
“Listen,aboutlastnight—”
“Youdon’thavetofinishthatsentence,”Isaid.
“—obviously,ithappenedand—”
“Really,youdon’tneedtodothis,”Isaid.
“—Idon’twanttheretobeanythingawkwardbetweenus.Anythingmoreawkward—”
“Ohmygod,”Imuttered.
“—butIneedyoutoknowI’mnotlookingforanything.Anythingserious.Anythingatall,actually.I’mnotinterestedinrepeating—”
“Wow.Wow.”
“—andIhopeyoucanunderstand.”
Iblinkedupathim,shockedbutalsoabitimpressedbyhisabilitytocramthatmuchdestructionintoacoupleofminutes.Itwasremarkableinitsmessiness.Ialmostadmiredit,assomeonewhowasalsoknowntoengageintragicmessiness—notasthewomanwithwhomhewasmakingthemess.
“Okay.Aboutthat.”Iwiggledahandinhisdirection.“IjustneedyoutoknowthatIhaveneitherthedesirenortheexpectationofever”—Idroppedarepulsedglanceathisscrubpantstoguaranteenomisunderstanding—”enduringthatagain.”
“Enduring?I’mprettysureyoudidbetterthanendureit.”
“Whatevergetsyouthroughthenight,”Ireplied.“Ifitwereuptome,we’dnevercrosspathsagain,letalone—ahem.”Anotherbelow-the-waistglance.“AsfarasI’mconcerned,it’salreadyforgotten.Hell,itwouldn’thavecrossedmymindoncetodayifyouhadn’tbroughtitup,butsinceyoudid,wecanagreeit’sbestleftinthepast.Okay?Allright.I’monmywayoutsoI’dloveitifyoucouldscootaside.”
Heshiftedtoleanbackagainstthestairwellwall.“You—what?”hecalled.
“Yeah,I’mheadingout.”
“Where?”hegrowled.
Theballsonthisguy.Theepic,arrogant,presumptuousballs.Hewasn’tlookingforanythingserious—asifanyguywhopinchedpussiesinahallwaywasteedupforserious—yetherehewas,badgeringmeaboutgoingforawalk.
Yeah,likeIneededseriouswiththatmaniac.
Hisscowlfalteredandwithitwentthecornerstoneofmyconfidence.Icouldplaythisgamesolongaswestayedintheroleswe’dassignedeachother.Icouldn’tdoitifhewasn’tgoingtoholduphisendofthebargain.Icouldn’t.IfIletgoforevenaminute,I’dhavetoreckonwiththerealitythatI’dhadwild,filthy,satisfyingsexwithamanIdespisedonanexhaustive,thoroughlevel.
Withmyneighbor.
Withmycolleague.
Withmycellmateforthenextsixweeksofconflictresolutioncounseling.
Andithadbeensogood,Icouldn’treallythinkaboutitbecauseitmademeangrytoknowI’dwasteddecadesofmylifeontrashsex.I’dconvincedmyselfthatIcouldn’tgetoutofmyheadenoughtofindsexpleasurableandthatitwasameproblem,notapartnerproblem.
Yetallalong,Sebastianwiththegooddickwaslivingupstairsandworkingdownthehallandbusybeingthemoodiest,mostantagonisticassholeintheworld
No,Icouldn’tthinkaboutanyofthis,andtherewasnowayhecouldstopplayingthegame.Ifhedid,I’dhavetoacknowledgethathe’dtouchedeverylastinchofme,eventheplacesI’djuststoppedhatinganddidn’tknowhowtoloveyet—andIdidn’thavetimeforthatkindofworktoday.Probablynottomorroweither.
Imotionedforhimtosaysomething,togivemeasinglereasontoexplainmyselftohim.Hestaredatmeforalong,cracklingmomentbeforeblinkingawaywithashrug.“Fine.Go.Whatever.”
“Goodtalk,”Icalledtohim.“Itdefinitelydidn’tsoundrehearsed.Welldone,Stremmel.”
Fromtwoflightsabove,Iheardhimlaugh.Then,“Shutup,Shap.”CHAPTER9SEBASTIAN
Despiteallquirkstothecontrary,Ididnothaveadeathwish.
Iwasn’tdepressedeither,thoughI’dbeenevaluatedmoretimesthanIcouldcount,especiallyduringmyemo-gothphaseinhighschool.Onmorethanoneoccasion,mymotherhaddraggedmeintothepediatrician’soffice,wavedatmyskintight,safety-pin-studdedblackjeans,mydress-code-violatingblackeyeliner,andthehairIinsistedonwearinglongandinfrontofmyeyes,andbeggedthedoctortoexplainhowanyofthatwasokay.Eachtime,thedoctortoldmymotherIwasallright.Shealsoexplainedthat“allright”couldbealotweird.
BythetimeIleftforcollege,I’dbeenevaluatedforeverything.Icouldrambleoffthedepressionandmooddisorderscreeningquestionsbyheart.Foraminute,IcontemplatedgoingintopsychiatrybecauseitseemedlikeIalreadyknewthedrill.
Thatsaid,Ididspendtheentiretyofmytwentiesandagoodportionofmythirtiesunpackingastorageunitfullofdeadbeatdaddramaintherapy.
Iwasn’tdepressed.Notanxious.Ijustlivedwithasimmeringcauldronofrageandcontemptfortheassholesandidiotsoftheworld,andthattookupalotofmytime.
Despitemycommentsinourfirstconflictresolutionsession,Ididhavefeelings.Awholefuckinglotofthem.SomanythatIhadtobeselectiveabouttheonesI’dletinonanygivenday.IfIwasn’tcareful,I’dfindmyselfconsumedbyfeelingeverything,allthedamntime.
Iwouldn’tbeasgenerousastosayI’dmadepeacewiththefactmyfatherfuckedoffwhenmysisterViviandIweretoddlers,orhowheleftmymotherwithoutchildsupportoranymeansofprovidingforus.I’dneverforgivehimfortheyearsofmylifethatIspentwatchingmymotherpanic-sweatherwayfrompaychecktopaycheck,workingtwoandthreejobstokeeparoofoverourheadsandcryingoverregistrationformsforsoccerleaguesandsummercampsbecausetherewasnowayinhellshecouldaffordthat.
Morethanleavinguspenniless,hediscardeduslikeabunchofdentedcansofsoup.
Exceptforwhenmymotherremarriedaguywithdeep,realestateinvestorpocketsandmydadhadtotakehertocourtforjointcustody.Notthathe’dbotheredtoseekusoutatanypointbetweentheagesofthreeandseventeen.Notthatheevershowedupforhislegallyguaranteedweekendswithus.Notthatheshowedupatall,notuntilmorethananotherdecadehadpassed.
HeshowedupwhenViviwaspromotedtoheadofmediarelationsattheUniversityofFloridaandheneededticketstotheGators’homegames.
AndthetimewhenIgraduatedfrommedicalschoolandhehadaninvestmentopportunitytopitchtomyfriends.
Itwasfunnyhowthose“opportunities”cameupeveryfewyears.There’dneverbeenanopportunitytoacknowledgemybirthday,neveranopportunitytoshowupwhenwewerekids,butnowthatwehadaccesstoSECfootballticketsandfriendswithmoneytoblow,theopportunitieswereendless.
Viviwasthestrongoneofus.Sheblockedhisnumberafterhecalledheraspoiledbitchforrefusingtocoughupablockoftickets,andwhenheshowedupatthestadiumdemandingthemanyway,shehadarestrainingorderfiledagainsthim.Vivididn’ttakeanyshitandshe’dmakeitrainfireifyoutriedher.
Hedidn’thitmeuptoooften,butItookthecallifIwasinthemoodtobeanantagonisticprick.So,mostofthetime.Wheneverhewantedmoney,Isangasongofpoordoctorscrushedundertheirstudentloans.Thathadn’tappliedtomeinyears,buthedidn’thavetoknowthat.
Thosesimmeringcauldrons.Weallhadthem.TheonlydifferencebetweenmeandVivioranyoneelsewasIworemineonmyfaceandIdidn’tgiveafuckifanyonehadaproblemwithit.
Ididn’tknowwhetherthecauldronhadcomefirstormyfuckshortage.Thatdidn’treallymattertome.Itwasthisdentedsoupcansituationthatwokemeupbeforemyalarmandhauntedmelikeaghosttoocuriousforitsowngood,alwaysswirlingaroundmyshouldersandaskingwhetherIkeptthatcauldrononmyfacetodistracteveryonefromthedentsIhadn’tbeenabletoemo-gothortherapyorworkorgrowlaway.CHAPTER10SARA
“We’llbeonthefloortoday,”MilanaannouncedwhenIsteppedintoheroffice.Shegesturedtothecoffeetableandthespaceshe’dclearedaroundit.“YouknowhowIfeelaboutplay.”
“Can’tforget,”Sebastianmutteredfromhisusualpostatthebookshelves.
Hewastoobusypagingthroughabooktoacknowledgeme.
Itwasagameinwhichwe’dbecomeeliteplayersoverthelastweek.Therewasnoavoidingourapartmentorthesurgicalwingbutwecouldturnfivehundredpercentofourattentiontoreadingafireexitmap,checkingapagerandthenmarchingintheoppositedirection,tyingashoelace,frowningaggressivelyatphones,evenstaringattheskywhenallelsefailed.
Foragamepredicatedonactivelyignoringeachother,itcamewiththeconsequenceofextremeawarenessofthatperson’spresence.Ididn’thavetoseehimtosensehim,andIwasn’tsurehowIfeltaboutthat.Wasitaskill?Somekindofdefensemechanismhonedfromweeksofstressandbadchoices?Orwasmybloodthrummingwithanunquencheddesiretowin,evenwhenwinningledtoonlyamomentofsmugsatisfactionandthestartofanothergo-roundofthisgame?
Isatcross-leggedinfrontofthetableandopenedthezippouchoftrailmixI’dbroughtalong.Mywhitecoattooksomeunfortunatehitsthismorninganditwasofftothelaundry,leavingmetorelyonthesaddlebagpocketsofmyscrubpants.Thiswasnotpreferrableformanyreasonsbutitwouldhavetodointhispinch.Agirlneededhersnacks.
“Sebastian,ifyou’djoinus,”Milanasaid.Shesatonanorangefootstool,herarmsfoldedonherkneesandanexpectantsmileonherfaceasshewatchedhim.
NotthatInoticed.Ididn’tcare.AllIknewwasIhadnointentionofforfeitingthisround.
IdugintomytrailmixwhileSebastiantookhissweet,scowlytimecrossingtheroom.Hislegscameintoviewfirst,cladinthesamebruisedbluescrubsasalways.Heeasedhimselfdowntothefloor,sighingandhuffingthewholeway.Hedidn’tevenapologizewhenhishugeknobbykneejostledthetable.
“Ihaveapuzzleforyoutoday,”Milanasaid,pointingherclaspedhandsatthetable.“It’saspecialone,asyou’llsee,thatIsaveforspecialfriends.”
“There’snothingonthesepieces,”Sebastiansaid.“It’sablankpuzzle?That’sthetrick?”
“Theyarenotblank,”shesaid,flippingonepieceovertorevealshadesofgreenandyellow.“Butwearen’trelyingonthecolorstoday.We’reusingmoresubtlecues.We’reusingnuances.”
“Fantastic,”Sebastianmurmured.
SinceIwasdeeplycommittedtowinningthisround,Iwastednotimeinorganizingthepiecesclosesttome.Ifweweresmart—recenteventsreallychallengedthatpremise—we’ddividethispuzzleupandnotbreatheawordtoeachotherbecausewe’dsoonerflipthistablethanengageintheactivityharmoniously.
WhetherSebastianhadthesameideaorhewascontentfollowingmylead,Ididnotknow,butIacceptedthequietthatenvelopedusjustthesame.ItwasthefirsttimeI’ddownshiftedfromhigh-alertdefensivemodeinsidethisoffice.MaybeMilanawasright.Maybeweweremakingprogressallthistime.
Ifshewasright,howwasIsupposedtoexplaineverythingthat’dhappenedoutsidethisoffice?
Sebastianpinchedapuzzlepieceawayfromme.“Theperimeteristhepriority.”
“Therecanbemultiple,simultaneouspriorities.”Withoutmeetinghisgaze,Isnatchedthepieceback.
Stillwinning.Ihadtowin.Afterthestairwell,Ineededthiswin.I’dstranglehimbeforeIlethimtakethisround.
…saidthenearlyforty-year-oldwomanwho’doncepossessedinterestsandhobbiesseparatefromhatingamanpurelybecausehebotheredher.
“Itwouldbemoreefficienttofocusontheperimeterandthenworkourwayin,”hecountered.
Hesoundedmoreexasperatedthanusual.Ihadtofightoffagrin.Hisexasperationwaslikecandy.Itwasterribleformebutthatinnowayminimizedthefunofit.
Ididn’trespond,insteadtryingtomakeprogresswithasmallgroupofpiecesandsteadilyfeedingmyselfnutsanddriedfruit.
Fromthecornerofmyeye,InoticedMilanashiftonherstooleveryfewminutes.Claspingandunclaspingherhands.Shedidn’tknowwhattodowithuswhenweweren’ttryingtokilleachotherwithsofttoys.
“Itwouldbefasterifyoucooperatedwithme,”hesaid.
Ishrugged.“Itwouldbefasterifyoustoppedinterruptingtotellmehowtogofaster.”
Hedroppedthepiecehe’dbeenwalkingbetweenhisthumbandindexfinger.Icouldn’tbesuresinceIwasstilldoingtheavertedeyesthingbutitfeltlikehewasstaringatme.Hecouldstareallhewanted.Ihadplentyofnondescriptgraypiecestooccupyme,theirinsandoutsblurringintoanunendingmonologueof“Doyoufit?Whataboutyou?Doesthiswork?Doesanythingfit?Doyouevenbelonginthesameboxoristhatthegaghere—thatnothinggoestogether?”
Icoulddothisallday.IfIdissociatedfromthesettingandthelarge,growlymanacrossfromme,theonewho’dabandonedallpretenseofworkingonthepuzzlesinceIwouldn’tfollowhisrules,Icouldfindsomezenintherepetitivemotionofputtingitalltogether.ItwaslikethoseadultcoloringbooksI’dhoardedafewyearsagointhehopesofchasingawaytheconstantsquabblinginmyhead.MyperfectionismhadreallystruggledwithgettingthecoloringjustrightandI’drealizedIdidn’tlikecoloringbut,forabrieftime,theactwasenoughtodrawmeawayfrommystressandmyworries.
Agrowlsoundedfromtheothersideofthetable.“Couldyou—”
“Probablynot,no.”
“Ifyou’djustlistento—”
“ButI’mnotgoingto,”Ireplied.“AcceptthatIamdoingitthisway,evenifyourwayisbetter,quicker,morenutrientdense,peerreviewed,andmorallyrighteous.I’vemademychoice.”
Ijoinedseveralpiecestogetherandtappedthegraysurfacetocongratulatemyselfonmakingprogressundertheseconditions.ButthenInoticedSebastianhadmostoftheperimetercomplete.
BecauseIcouldn’thelpmyself,Igesturedtotheshellhe’dconstructed.“What’sthepointofharassingmeintohelpingyouwhenyoudon’tneedanyhelp?Isitaboutcomplianceforyou?You’rehell-bentongettingmetoobey?”
SebastiansuckedinabreathandIcounteredthatwithapetulantshrug-head-shakecombothatIneverwould’veriskedasateenager.HeresumedhissilentstaringandIcontinuedhuntingforpiecestofitsomewhereonthesegmentI’dstarted.
Ifiguredwewererunningouttheclockonthissession—whichwasperfectlyacceptable—butthenhecrossedhisarmsoverhischest.Insuchclosequarters,Icouldn’thelpbutheartherustleofcrispfabricagainstwarmskinanditthrewmebacktothatnight.Tohimstretchedoverme.Toclothesandsheetseverywhere.Tohisbeardonmyskin,hismouthalloverme.Tohissounds.Hiswords.
Iblinkeddownatmypieces.MypulsewashammeringandIcouldfeelheatrisinginmycheeks.Myearlobeswerehot.AllIcoulddowasdiveintomysnackbagandcramthreealmondsintomymouth.Itwouldtakemeanagetochewthemupintothetiny,tinypiecesnecessaryformetodigestthemwithoutdisasterandthatprocesswouldbemorethanenoughtosapmeofallsexythoughts.Nothingwaslesssexythanthethreatoftriggeringanirritablebowel.
Iwould’vegottenawaywithmymemoriesandthehammeringofmyheartifhehadn’tbeenwatchingme,waitingformetotripupandforgetthegame.
“Shap,”hesaidknowingly,“whatthehellareyoueating?”
SinceIwasveryconsumedwithmyalmonds,Iheldupthebagbywayofexplanation.Hesnatcheditaway,hisscowlallpluckedandoffendedbymyunconventionaltrailmix.
“What…whatthehell,Shap?Nuts,cereal,whatarethesethings?Whatisthis?Driedpineapple?”Hehelpedhimselftoachunkofcrystallizedgingerand,ifthedisgustonhisfacewasanyindicator,immediatelyregrettedit.“Fuckin’ginger,mygod,why?”HereachedforthebottleofwaterI’dabandonedonthesofaandchuggedhalfthecontents.“Oh,that’sfuckingawful.”Hepeeredintothebagagain.“M&Ms,driedcranberriesofallthegod-awfulthings,raisins—”
“Helpyourselftotheraisins,”Isaid,ahandovermymouthasIchewedthelastbitsofalmond.“Idon’tdoraisins.”
OnlywhenSebastianleveledmewithasteadygazedidIrealizeI’dforgottenthegame.Ithadonlyrequiredsomeperverseamusementoverhisreactiontothegingerand—poof.Aroundsurrendered.
“Thenwhyisthisfullofraisins?”Heshookthebag.
“Becausethat’showthetrailmixcomesfromthestoreandIdon’thavethepatiencetoseparatethemout.”
I’dboughtthebiggestbagavailableandthendumpeditallintoastoragecontainer.Storepackagingandnutritionlabelsmademetwitchy,andIalwayswantedtoaddextrabitslikecerealandginger,orpretzelswhenIneededtokeepitontheblandside.
Shakingthebagagain,hesaid,“Thisisn’ttrailmix.It’sthediscardpilefromthebulkbinsatahealthfoodstore.”
Igrabbedforthebagbuthehelditoutofreach.“Thanksforweighinginbutyouropinionisirrelevant.”
Hepushedtohisfeetandpacedawayfromthetable.“Areanyofmyopinionsrelevanttoyou?Ever?”
Hestoodfacingthewallofbookshelves,hisbacktome.Withhisheadcockedtotheside,itseemedlikehewasreadingthespinesbutIcouldn’tbesure.Icouldn’tpryanymeaningfromthedepthandgroovesofhisscowleither.
“WhenitcomestowhatIeat?No.”IglancedatMilana,urgingherwithmyeyeballstodosomething.Makehimsitdown.Makehimfinishthepuzzle.Makehimstayontopicandoutofmypersonallife.
Herbrowsarchedupandsheheldoutthisistheprocess,trusttheprocesshands.
“Youdon’tseemeregisteringmyopinionsonyourchoices,”Icontinued.“Idon’tcareifyouwanttoputtheedgestogetherfirstandIdon’tcareifyouhatedriedcranberries.IhappentolovethembutIonlyeat,like,fiveeveryfewdaysandIsavorthosefivecranberries.IsavethemforlastandIamnotinterestedinhearinganynoiseaboutit.Isthatallrightwithyou,Dr.Stremmel?”
Heroundedthecoffeetableandsatontheedgeofthesofa.Heheldoutthebag.“Youhavetheweirdestsnacksintheworld.It’sdisturbing.”
Ilookedintothebag.Fourcrinklylittlecranberriessatononeside,thenutsandotherbitsontheother.Theraisinsweregone.
Ijerkedmyheadup,overtothebookshelves,searchingandsearchingforsomeexplanation.ThenInoticedthewastebasketbesidetheshelves.He’dsortedouttheraisinsforme.
“Why?”Itwasjustawhisper.
Sebastiangaveasingleshakeofhishead.Hiselbowswereonhisthighs,hisgazeonthepuzzle.
“Why?”Irepeated.
Hisshouldersliftedinagreatheave.“Iwastiredofwatchingyoupawatthatbag.NotthefirsttimeI’vesavedyoufromyourself.Notthefirsttimeyou’veinstructedmetofuckoffwhiledoingit.”
Didthatmakethisthelasttime?Orjustoneinaseriesofnexttimes?
“Wearejustaboutattheendofourtimefortoday.”Milanagentlyclappedherhandstogetherandlavishedawarmgrinonthepartiallyexcavatedpuzzle.“Foryourhomeworkthisweek—”
“Notunlesswecanagreeonreducingthetotalnumberofsessions,”Sebastianinterrupted.
Sheshookherhead,thatwarmgrinunfazed.“Ihaven’tmadeadecisiononthatyet.”Shepassedeachofusahalfsheetofpaper.“I’dlikeyoutoarriveatthislocationatsevenonSundaymorning.”
“Waytochooseviolence,Milana,”hemurmured.Hesoundedjocular,almostfriendly.Likeheteasedpeopleeverydayandhecoulddoitwithoutbeingadickhead.“WillyoubejoiningusonSundaymorning?Itwouldbegoodofyoutocomealong,don’tyouthink?OrshouldIcallyoutoletyouknowwe’vearrivedatthelocation?Atseven?OnSundaymorning?”
“Itrustyoutohandlethisonyourown,Sebastian.”
Shecrossedtothedoor,holdingitopeninaclearsignalforustogetthefuckout.
Sebastianwasclosestandexitedwithoutfurtherdiscussion.Hewashalfwaydownthehallandmovingatapacethatsaidhehadplacestobe.ThedoortothestairwellbangedbehindhimandIhadtoflydownthefirstsetofstairstocatchup.
“Wouldyoujustslowdownforasecond?”Myvoiceechoedoffthecinderblockwalls.
Ireachedforhiselbowashemadetheturnatthelanding.Insteadofstopping,hebackedmeagainstthewall,hisfingerssplayedovermyhip,histhumbaninchortwoawayfromlocationsdeemednotsafeforwork.
Hestaredatme,hiseyesdarkandhisscowlforcinghislipsintoapoutthatwasadashtooaggressivetobeattractiveanddiggingriversandtributariesintohisbrow.
“Somethingyouneed,Shap?”
Thatthumbdrewcirclesovermyscrubs,aroundandaroundaswestaredateachother.I’dfollowedhimforareasonbutIcouldn’tfinditnow.Icouldn’tfindanythingbutthefirmpressofhisfingersandthewaymyskinjustmeltedinresponse.Thatwasit—Imelted.Iwashotandsoftandeverythinginsidemefeltpliable,likehecouldshapemeanywayhewantedandnothingaboutitcouldeverbewrong.
“Speakwords,screechowl,”herumbled.
AllIcouldcomeupwithwasajerkyshakeofmyhead.Sebastianwatchedmethroughthoseridiculouslashes,hisscowlsofteninginmicroscopicincrementsashestudiedme.
“Shap,”hewarned,bringinghisotherhandtothebackofmyneck.Hestrokedhisfingersalongmywindpipe.
Isuckedinabreath,readytotellhimthiswastheworstplacetostranglemeandalso,whathappenedbacktherewiththeraisinsandwhywasasinglethumbdestroyingmyabilitytofunctioninthemostbasicsense?
Iwould’vesaidthis.Ireallywouldhave,butasnarlsoundedinhisthroatandsomethingwasdecided,somethingirrevocable,becausehebrushedhislipsovermineanditwaslikeunpluggingaradio.Thenoisestopped,leavingonlyhisirritable,hungrygrowlsandourmingledbreathsandtheclompofmyheart.
Ilockedmyarmsaroundhisneckandclimbedhimlikeafloodwasabouttocarrymeaway.Therewasnowayofknowingwhetherthatwasmybestorworstmomenttodate.Itcould’vegoneeitherwaybutnowIknewhowthatpouttasted.
Thatcountedforsomething,evenifthiswasaslow-fallingtragedyinaction.Hekissedhiswayalongmyjawanddownmythroattotuckafingerundertheneckofmyt-shirt.“Thisshirt,”hegrowled,“isfuckingperfect.”
Ihadtoforcemyeyesopenandblinkdownatmychest.Ididn’tknowwhichshirtIwaswearinganymorethanIknewwhatthehellwashappeningbetweenusorwhyIfounditnecessarytowrapmylegsaroundhistrimwaist.
“‘Healwithcoldsteel,’”heread,tracingafingeroverthepairofscalpelscrossedunderaskull.“Loveit.”Hedroppedakisstomysternalnotch.“Wheredoyougettheseshirts?”
Asiftherewasanyconfusionaboutwhichshirtshewasreferringto,heranahandovermybreasts,bunchingthecottoninhisfistashekissedmeagain.
“Whydoyouwanttoknow?”
“SoIcanstopthinkingaboutit.”
HesighedagainstmylipsthoughIknewimmediatelyitwasn’toneofhisusualsighsofaggravation.No,thissighwaslacedwithmisery,withpain.
Iwasasecondawayfromattendingtoallthatmiserybeforeadoorslammedafewflightsabove.Wejoltedapartasifwe’dbeenstunned,scatteringtooppositecornersofthelanding.IswallowedupaheavyblinkofSebastianadjustinghimselfbeforeIwhirledaroundtofacethewall.
Imanagedtwoshudderinggaspsbeforehishandslandedonmyshoulders.“I’msorry,”hesaidsoftly.
“Forwhat?”Itriedtostraightenmyshirtbutmyhandsdidn’tworkanymore.
HebreathedasighasshakyasIfelt.“FuckifIknowbut—”
“Juststop.Okay?That’swhatIwant.Iwantthistostopand”—Irubbedmytemplesagainstthesuddenonslaughtofcompetingthoughts—”thisisn’thappening.It’snot.”
Hishandsfellfrommyshoulders.Thesecondhewasgone,Iwantedhimback.“Messagereceived.”
Iheardhimbackupandthenjogdowntothenextlevel.Hishandsconnectedwiththedoor,thehingessquealing.Ipressedmyfingertipstomylips.Mybodywasshakingfromtheinsideout.Ihadn’tfeltthistornandoutofcontrolinadecade.Maybelonger.Ididn’tknowhowtofixitbutIknewIhadto.
Wecouldn’tkeepdoingthis.CHAPTER11SEBASTIAN
Fuckmylife.
No,seriously,justfuckmywholelife.
Icouldn’tgoanotherroundwithSara.Nottonight,notthisweekend,notever.Iwasnotcapableofmanagingallthethingsshestirredupinsidemewhilealsobeingasemifunctionaladult.IcoulddoSaraorIcoulddolife,butdefinitelynotboth.
Mostofthetime,Iwantedtowrapmyhandsaroundherthroat.ThatIwantedtodothiswhilefuckingherdidn’timprovethesituation.
SinceIcouldn’tcopewithanotherhallwayencounterrightnow,Iduckedoutofthehospitalearlyandavoidedtheapartmentbuildingaltogether.AfterasubwayrideintoCambridgeandashortwalkfromthestation,IwasstandingonNick’sdoorstep.
I’dtextedhimonthewaysothiswasn’tacompletelyunannounceddemandforfoodandshelterbutIacceptedhisbarelytolerantstarewithashrug.
“Ifyoudon’twantpeoplecomingover,youshouldn’tbesowelcoming,”Isaid
Heshutthedoorbehindme,saying,“SomehowIdoubtthat’stheissue.”
IfollowedhimintothekitchenwherehiswifeErinwasseatedatthelongfarmhousetablewithherlaptopandapileoffolders.Shepattedtheemptyspotbesideher.“Who’sbotheringyoutoday,Sebastian?”
Idroppeddownintothechairandrestedmyheadonmyupturnedpalm.“Everyone.”
ItwastheonlyanswerIhadavailable.Icouldn’ttellheraboutmyveryblonde,verybrattycatastrophe.NotunlessIwantedtoseeNickblowhistop,whichhewould,becausethiswasthestupidkindofcatastropheIshould’veknownbetterthantorunstraightintowithopenarms.
Shenodded.“Thattracks.”
Igesturedtoherscreen.“What’snewingeologicalclimatescience?”
“Oldrocks,newdata.Sameshit,differentday,youknow?”Sheclosedherlaptop.“Youlooktired.”
“Thanks.You’reagoodfriendtoinsultmetomyface.”IglancedatNick.Hewasbusymovingaroundthekitchen,adishtoweldrapedoverhisshoulderandabottleofbeerwithinarm’sreach.“Grouptherapyisexhausting.”
“Probablybecauseyou’renotallowedtogetawaywithallyourbullshit,”Nicksaid.“Andbelieveme,I’mfuckin’thrilledit’sShapcallingyouonit.”
“Why?”
“Becauseshe’sthissweetlittlething—”
“Thereisnothingsweetabouther,”Isaid.
“—andyouhulkaroundlikefuckin’Dracula—”
“Okaynowthat’sjustridiculous.Ihaveagreattan.”Ishovedupmysleevesandpresentedmyarmsasevidence.“See?IblinkatthesunandIlooklikethisfortheyear.Nothingpale.Nothingshimmery.Notavampire.”
Acevedogavemeaflatstare.
“Youdohaveatendencytohulkaround,thoughitreadsmoreasEdgarAllanPoeandhisraventomethanvampire,”Erinsaid.“Ithinkwe’refocusingmoreonvibethanskintone,youknow?”
“Ifyousayso,”Ireplied.
Erinhadawayofstaringatpeopleandseeingintothestitchingoftheirsouls.Shecouldflipthroughamindlikeitwasabookwritteninalanguageonlyshespokeandshediditinamannerthatleftyouthankingherprofuselyfortheintrusion.
“Iknowit’snotthetherapyaspectthatbothersyou,”shemused,givingmeanarrowedstudythroughhertortoise-rimmedglasses.
Shewasrightaboutthat.I’dbeenthroughplentyoftherapy.OneofthemanythingsErinandIhadincommon.Anotherthing—wewerebothfucked-upkidslivinginadultbodiesandpretendingwehadanycluewhatweweredoing.
“Althoughit’stherapywithapersonyoudon’tknowverywellbuthavehaddifficultinteractionswithsoIguessthatcouldbetough,”shewenton.“What’shappeninginyoursessions?”
“Wehadtoputajigsawpuzzletogetherusingonlythecardboardsideofthepieces.”Iranahandthroughmyhair.“Lastweek,wehadtojuggle.”
“Juggle?Like”—shebouncedherhandsinfrontofher—”jugglingjuggle?”
Iblewoutamiserablesigh.“Wehadtotalkwhilewetossedthingsbackandforth.Itgotalittleoutofhand.”
Erinnoddedslowly.“Thatseemstobehappeningalotthesedays.How’sSaradoing?”
“HowthehellshouldIknow?”Iaskedwithway,waytoomuchfirepower.
“Rememberwhoyou’retalkingto,”Nickwarned.“Ifyou’readickheadtomywife,I’msendingyouhomewithoutdinner.”
Erinshotanamusedgrininherhusband’sdirection.“YouknowIcanhandlethis,right?”
Ididn’tevencarethatIwasanobjectinneedofhandling.Didn’thaveasinglefucktogive,becausemywholelifewasfucked.Sarawaseverywhere.Atwork,inmybuilding,withmyfriends,insidemyhead,everywhere.AndnowIknewwhatshefeltlike.Howshetasted.Howshefellapartforme.
TheonlyanswerwasavoidanceyetIwasexpectedtoseeherthisweekendand—what?Notkillherthesecondsheopenedhermouth?Notkisshersimplytoshutherup?Nottouchherjusttoprovetomyselfshewasn’tasgoodasthememories?
“SpeakingofSara,”Erinsaid,“Ineedyoutodosomethingforme.”
Irubbedmyeyesbecausethatcouldnotberight.Iwashallucinating—andIwascoolwiththat.Farbetterthanmypresenthelpingofreality.
“Anything,”Imurmuredfrombehindmyhands.
“Wearehavingalittleget-togetherinafewweeks,”shestartedwithaglancetowardNick.
“Ihavesomenewresidents,”heexplained.
“ThisiswhatI’msaying.You’retoowelcoming.Youtwoneedtoknockthisshitoffbeforeyou’reoverrunwithstraysandcharitycases.”
“Suchasyourself?”heasked.
“No!I’mafriendofthefamily,”Ireplied.
“That’ssuchafunnywayofsayingyou’vehitonhalfofmysisters-in-lawandselectedmywifeasyouremotionalsupportgeologist.”
Iwasanasshole.Weknewthis.
“Ihaven’thitonanyonerecently,”Iargued.
“Factsarefacts,Stremmel,”hecalled.
“Backtothedinnerparty,”Erinsaidwithalaugh.“WehavethenewresidentsandafriendofminefromOxfordiscomingintotownaswell.He’stakingavisitingprofessorpostatHarvard.”
“Soundsgreat,”Isaid.“Arewehavingbarbecueortacos?”
“We,”Nickrepeated.“Thisfuckin’guy.Whendidweadoptyou?”
“Tacos,”Erinsaid.
“Excellent,”Ireplied.AcevedowasabosswhenitcametoTex-Mex.“So,whatdoyouneedfromme?”
Eringrinned.“GetSaratocome.”
TherestraintthatittookmetokeepfromsayingIalreadyhave—twice—almostgavemeahernia.IpressedmyfisttomymouthbecauseIdidn’ttrustmyselfatallrightnow.
Erincontinuedon,seeminglyoblivioustothealarmsblastinginmyhead.“She’sonlybeenhereafewtimesandit’salwaysbeenwithabiggroup,likewhenwesaidgoodbyetotheinternclassandAlex’sbirthday,andshe’sneverbeenavailableforanyofoursmallerdinners.Nicksaysshe’sshyand—”
“Thatisinaccurate,”Isaidfrombehindmyfist.Istood,stalkedtothefridgeinsearchofsomethingtooccupymymouth.“ThelastthingShapirocouldeverbeisshy.You’rereadingthatoneallwrong,Acevedo.”
“Please,”hesaid,holdinghisarmsout.“Simplybecauseshe’snotafraidofyoudoesn’tmeanshe’snotalsoshy.”
IpeeredathimasIpoppedthetopoffabeerbottle.“Everythingyoujustsaidiswrong.”
Nickrubbedahanddownhisface.“Forsomeonewhospendssomuchtimethinkingabouthimself,yourself-awarenesscouldusework.”Hepointedatadishonthestove.“Makeyourselfuseful,wouldyou?Stirthis.”
“Promisemeyou’llaskher,”Erinsaid.“Alexisworkingonittoo.Ihopethatdoesn’toverwhelmhertoomuch.”
Itookalongpullfrommybeertokeepfromcommentingonthat.TheSaraIknewwasphysicallyimmunetoanyformofoverwhelm.Ifanything,shelivedinacontinuallyunderwhelmedstate.TherewasagoodchanceIcouldrailherstraightthroughawallandshe’dfindawaytobeunimpressed.
“Please?”Erinprompted.
Iblinkedather.“What?”
“AskSaratocomeanddoitnicely,”Erinsaid.
“Ifanyone’sdoingtheasking,it’sher,”Imurmured.“AndI’mnotgoingtobeniceaboutgettingherthere.”
NickglancedatmewithalarmashepouredErinaglassofwine.“Whatthehelldidyoujustsay?”
“Nothing.Nothing.”Iwentbacktostirringinearnest.“Youshouldknowshedoesn’trespondtonice.”
“Listen,”Nicksaidwithasigh.“You’retheonespendingallthistimewithher,albeitemployer-mandatedtime.We’dliketoseemoreofheroutsidework—”
IchuggedmybeertokeepmythoughtsawayfromhowmuchI’dseenofher.
“—andforreasonsonlymywifeunderstands,we’reaskingyoutoconvinceourlikelyshy,definitelyintrovertedcolleaguetoattendournextgathering.”
Iswungaglancebetweenthem.“Thisfeelslikeapunishment.ShouldIhavebroughtsomebeerwithme?Wine?I’llbringbothnexttime.”
“It’snotapunishment,”Erinsaid.“IreallywanthertomeetMalakai.”
“You—what?”
“MalakaiFord,”shesaid.“He’sthefriendfromOxford.He’stakingavisitingprofessorshipandIthinktheycouldreallyhititoff.”
“Theycould—”IturnedtofaceNickwhileviolentlywavinginErin’sdirection.“Whatthehell?”
Hegaveawearyshakeofhishead.“Idon’tknow,man.Erinthinkstheymightlikeeachother.”
“Aren’twealittleoldtobefixingpeopleup?”Iasked.
Erinrestedherchininherlacedfingers,apleasedgrinonherface.“MaybeyouarebutI’mnot.”
“Walkedrightintothatone,”Acevedomuttered.
“You’rethecradlerobber,”Isaidtohim.“Butlisten.Wecan’tbeseriousaboutsettingShapupwiththisguy.Schemeslikethis,theyalwaysbackfire.”
Thatsoundedlegit.Itsoundedlikesomethingawell-adjustedadultwouldsay.Yeah,Iwasgettingawaywithtalkingthemoutofthis.They’dseereason.Thesetwo,theyweresmart.Theywouldn’tgothroughwiththis.
“Theyneverworkoutforyou,”Erinsaid.“Mostlybecauseyousetyoursightsonpeoplewhoareoff-limits,likemysisterShannon.Likemysister-in-lawAndy.Likemyothersister-in-lawAlex.”
“Yes,I’manassholeofgreatrenown,”Isaid.“Anyway.Idon’twantyousettingupShap.It’snotgoingtoendwell.”
“Whoareyouconcernedabouthere?”Nickasked.
“I—Iamsimplystating,”Isaid,moreorlesshiccupingoutthesewords,“thatyourresidentsdon’tneedtoseeShapbagandtagaprofessorwhoisundoubtedlytoodelicateforthelikesofasurgeonwhochosetoworkonburnsandwounds.”
“We’renotarranginganymarriageshere,Sebastian.Ijustwanthertocometothepartyandmeetafriend.Whathappensafterthatisoutofmyhands.”WhenIdidn’trespond,sheadded,“Ifyoureallydon’twantto,it’sfine.I’lljust—”
“I’lldoit,”Igrumbled.“Okay?I’llgetherhere.”
Fuckmywholelife.CHAPTER12SEBASTIAN
EventhoughIwasdueatthehospitalearlytomorrow,IhungoutwiththeAcevedospastmybedtime.TherewasnolimittothesurgerystoriesNickandIcouldshare,especiallywhenErinsetoutaplateoftinyPortuguesecustardpiesfromthebakerynearheroffice.IalsolingeredlongerthannecessarybecauseIcouldn’tchanceanotherrun-inwithSara.
BythetimeIemergedfromthesubwaystation,Iwasdeadonmyfeet.Ineverstayedoutthislateanymore,definitelynotwithoutamiddaynapforfortification,anditshowedasIdraggedmyassupCharlesStreet.Andthisweathersucked.Mygod.LateOctoberwastheworst.Itwascoldandwindyallthetimeandeveryonegotexcitedaboutthefuckingleaves.Asifthatwouldcompensateforthescantbitofsunlightwesaweachday.
Thisearlywinterbullshitwasjustasbadasrealwinter.Thesnowandiceweretotalmiserybut—
Ijerkedtoastopfivefeetfrommybuilding,myshoesfrozentothesidewalkasIfoundSarastaringatmewithwideeyes.Icouldhearmypulsethrumminginmyeardrumsasweregardedeachotherforalong,tensemoment.Agustofwindhowledthroughthenarrowalleywaysbetweenthebuildingsandslicedthrougheverylayerofmyclothing.Isquintedagainstthefrigidair,saying,“Outalittlelateforaschoolnight,don’tyouthink?”
Herfacetwistedintoadisgustedsneer.“Yeah,likeI’mgoingtojustifymyselftoyou.Surething.”
Shereachedintoherpocket,takingoutherhospitalaccesscardandlanyardwithherkeys.Shewascominghomefromwork.She’dbeenavoidingmeasmuchasI’dbeenavoidingher.
Therewasapleasantedgetothatrealizationbutitworeofffast,leavingmemoreannoyedthanI’dbeenearlier.
Ijoggeduptheshortstonesteps,saying,“Noteverythingisabattle,Shap.Learntorecognizethat.”
“Right,”shecalledfrombehindme.“LetmegrabmynotebooksoIcantakelifelessonsfromtheguywhodoesn’tthinkhecanlearnanythingfromanyone.”
Iunlockedtheouterdoorandthenthedoorintothevestibule,notbotheringtoholdeitherforSarabecauseshedidn’tneedmyhelpwithadamnthing.
“It’sfunnyhowyou’rehunguponmebeinginflexiblewhenitsoundslikeyoucouldlearnafewthingsyourself.Lessonone:youdon’thavetoscreamatpeopleallthetime,”Isaid.
Thedoorsbangedshutbehindher,leavingusonceagaintrappedinthisrecklessspacewherethewallsseemedtocurlinwardandthedimlightcollapsedoverus.
“IbetIshouldsmilemore.Right?Thatwouldhelp,wouldn’tit?Smilingandnoddingandlettingthementellmehowirrelevantmyspecialtyistotheirwork.”
IwhirledaroundtofacehereventhoughIshould’vesprintedupthestairsandbarricadedmyselfinmyapartment.Steppedcloser.“Youknowforafuckingfactthatisn’ttrue.”
Sheheldoutahand,butinsteadofusingittostopme,shecurleditaroundthelapelofmycoat.“Andyouknowforafuckingfactyou’reguiltyofexactlythatsoexplaintome—”
Onceagain,Ididnotthink.
Ijustshovedahandintoherhairandbroughthermouthtomine.Ittookallofasecondforhertograbthefrontofmycoatandjerkmecloser.IfIhadn’tbeenbusygettingdrunkoffthetasteofher,Iwould’velaughedbecauseshecouldnotstandtolosetheupperhandforasecond.NotunlessIdroveherallthewayoutofhermindandobliteratedanyquestionastowhowasincontrol.
AndIhatedthatIknewthisabouther.Ididn’twanttowalkaroundknowinghowtopushtherightbuttonssoshecouldbehereandnotrunningintheeighty-fivedifferentdirectionsinhermind.Ididn’tneedtoknowanythingaboutherbuttonsorhermindor—oh,fuck,Ijustwantedheroutoftheseclothes.Thatwasit.ThatwasallIcaredabout.
Ipushedherbagoffhershoulder,pulledopenhercoat,pressedherspinetothepanelofherdoor.“You’renotsoterriblewhenyoushutupforasecond,”Isaidintoherneck.
“Ifyou’reexpectingsomekindofreciprocalconcession,you’vecometothewrongplace.”
IranahanddowntheplumplengthofherthighuntilIreachedherknee,andhitchedherleghighonmyhip.Irockedagainsthercenter,myshaftreadytotearthroughmytrousers.
Herewegoforanotherroundwithmyfavoritemistake.
Toherstrangledmoan,Isaid,“IthinkI’mintherightplace.”
Shedroppedherchintoherchestasanotherbreathrushedoutofher.“Yourarroganceissuffocating.”
Iclosedmyhandoverhers,pryingthekeysfromherfingers.“AmIopeningthisdoor,Shap?OramItakingmysmugness”—Igroundagainstherforsomecruelemphasis—”home?”
“Iprefertobealone.”ShebowedtowardmeeverytimeIrockedagainsther,asIstoleandsuckedandbitherlips.
Idraggedthekeyringoverthetightbudofhernip,backandforthinalazyrhythm.“I’msureyoudo.Itmustbedamnhardtofindanyonewhocanevenscrapethebottomofyourexactingstandards.ButIthinkyoulikebeingalonewithme.”
“Ican’tdecideifyou’reanidiotorajackass,”shemused.
Icaughtthatnipplebetweenmyfingersandgaveitaroughtwist.“Whynotboth?”
“You’renotthatself-destructive.”
Idippedmyheadtomeethergaze.“Whatthefuckdoesthislookliketoyou?”
Sheblinkedawaybuttuggedhardonmycoat,keepingmeclose.“Wecan’tkeepdoingthis.”
Istoleherlipsagain,kissingherhardandalittlemean.ShewasrightbutIdidn’twanttostop.Notyet.
“Justthisonce,”shewhispered.“Thisisthelasttime.”
“Good.Ican’twaittogetridofyou.”
Sheslidherhanddownmychest,overmytorso,andpastmybelttogripmycockthroughmytrousers.“Idespiseyou.”
“AllIwantistogetyououtofmysystemonceandforall,tinytornado.”
Finally,sheliftedhergazetomine,hereyesnarrowed.ShewentonstrokingmewhileIteasedhernippleandIknewwecoulddothisallnight.Wecouldtortureeachotheruntiltimeranout—whichwasn’teventhemostperversepartofthis.ItwasthatIcravedthisfucked-uphallforeplayandeverythingthatfolloweditasmuchasIresentedit.
Shegavemeadeep,firmsqueezethatbroughtstarstomyeyesandcrushedthelastofmygoodsense.“Openthedoor,Stremmel.”
IknewwhereIwasgoingthistime.OnelessthingtoworryaboutwhileIlickedherneckanddiedatthefeelofherundermyhands.Westumbledintoherdarkbedroomanddidn’tbotherwiththelightsaswelostourcoatsandshoes.AssoonasIhadhernaked,Ipushedherdowntothebed.Ishruggedoutofmyclothes,stoppingonlytopointtomyshirt.“I’mnotlettingyouripthisone.”
“Whyareyoustilltalking?”
Sarascootedbackonherelbows,pressedherkneestogetherasifwewerepolitepeoplewhohadgentle,timidsexandspokelovingwordstoeachotherintheprocess.Itwasfunny.“Whatthefuckareyoudoing?”Ireachedforherleg,gaveitaroughsqueeze.“Whatdoyouthinkthereistohidefromme?”
“Youreallyneedtostoptalking.It’smuchlesseffectivethanyouimagineitis.”
SheglaredupattheceilingwhileIopenedthedrawerforacondom.Inadditiontotheassortmentofbottlesandhairjunk,Ifoundahotpinkvibrator.“Wearegoingtohavefunwiththis.”Itossedittothebedand—thoughitmadezerosense—shejumpedhalfwayoutofherskininresponse.“Whatthefuck.Getbackhere.”
“Idonothavetosharemytoyswithyou,”sherepliedinthemostprim,crisptoneever.Ifshewasn’tnaked,she’dbesmoothingaskirt.
Ireachedforherankle,towedhertothissideofthebed.Sheflailedandyelped.Itwasadorableinaverygetbackinthecave,womanway.“Didn’tanyonetellyou?It’smorefunwhenyoushare.”
“Thengetuphereandsharethatcockwithme,”shedemanded.“MaybethenI’llletyouplaywithmytoys.”
“Ohmyfuckinggod,woman.”Iclimbedoverherandkissedmywayfromherforeheadtoherbellybutton.MycockwashotonherthighwhenIreachedforherhandandcurleditaroundme.“Doyourpart,”Iordered.“Itworksoutwellforyou,remember?”
“Sorry,no,I’vescrubbeditfrommemory.”Shesaidthiswithasadisticgrinthatcrankedmyengineallthewayup.Ididn’twanttolikeit.Hell,Ihonestlyandtrulydislikedher.Butthatgrinandthemagicalwayshetwistedherfistaroundtheheadofmycock,itbroughttolightanuncomfortableclosenessbetweengoodandevil.
“Thisisforme,”Isaid,myfingersfindingthewetbetweenherthighs.
“No,it’sforme,”shefiredback.“Thatyouhappentobeinvolvediscoincidental.”
Ipushedmyfingersinsideher.“You’readdictedtomycoincidences.”
“You’resuchanasshole,”shegroanedasshetightenedherholdonme.“It’sarealtragedythatthisfinepieceofmachinerycameattachedtoyou.”
“Tragediesallaround.”Itossedthecondomtoherbelly.“Takecareofthat.”
Shetosseditback.“It’syourdick.Doityourself.”
“Ohmygod,”Imutteredtomyself,throwingitbackandhittinghersquareontheforehead.“I’msotiredoftalkingtoyou.”
“Yeah,same.Whenareyougoingtoshutup?”
Isettledonmybelly,myshaftdrillingintothemattress,andshovedherlegsapart.“Rightnow.”
ShecriedoutwhenmytonguehitherclitandIappreciatedtheenthusiasm.ItmadeadifferenceinmytechniqueandIdidn’tmindadmittingthat.Alsopositive—shedroppedbothkneestothemattressandshudderedwhenIgotthatpearlbetweenmylipsandsucked.
“Oh,fuck,”shegasped.
“See?It’snotthathardtobenice.Youshouldtryitmoreoften.Goodthingswillhappentoyou,youlittledemon.”
Igrabbedthevibratorandswitchediton.ShetensedbeforeIranitdownherseam,themusclesinherlegsandabdomenshakingjustenoughtomakemedoubtthisdecision,butthenshewentthere.Shestumbledintothatplacewhereshedidn’thavetobeascreechowlanymoreandshecouldhatemewhilelovingthethingsIdidtoher.AndallofthatgavemethefreedomtogiveherallthethingsIknewwebothrequiredfromthisfucked-upgame.
Notevenaminutepassedbeforesheyankedapillowoverherfaceandscreamedintoit.Thewhole-bodytremblefollowedandthesweetestrushofwetI’devertasted,andImentallyaddedapointtothescoreboard.
NotthatIwascounting.
Fuckthat,Iwastotallycounting.Alwayscounting.
“Where’sthecondom?”sheasked.“GivemethecondomandgetyourdickupherenowbecauseIamnotinthemoodtowaitand—”
“Yes,yes,you’llgetwhatyouwant.”Icrawledupherbody,carefultodragmybeardoverherbelly,herbreasts.ShewrithedbeneathmeasIteasedher,evengiggledatonepoint.Thiswomangiggled.Whowould’veguessed?“Whyareyoualwaysinsuchanepicrush?Letyourselfenjoysomethingforfiveminutes,wouldyou?”
“Becauseitdoesn’tlastsoyouhavetohurryup,”shesaid,pattingthemattressforthecondom.
Ihandedherthepacket.“I’llmakeitlast.”
“It’sextremelyboldofyoutoassumeyoucanoutmaneuvermybodybutI’veknownitlongerthanyouhave.”
Iwatchedherfrantichandsrollthecondomdownmyshaft.“Yeah,thatmakessense.Idon’treallyknowwhatIwastalkingabout.Idefinitelydidn’toutmaneuveryouintogettingmesuitedup,didI?”
“Notthesame,”shehuffedasIbroughtherankletomyshoulder.
“Notevenclose.”Igaveheracrazygrin,thekindthatsaidIcouldn’tbetrustedwithanything.Itwasthetruth.Icouldnotbetrusted.IpushedinsideherbutthenmybrainshortedoutandIhadtopressmymouthtohercalftokeepfromblurtingoutawholeslewofthingsthathadnobusinessbetweenushere.“Whyisyourpussyashotastheactualsun?”
Iwasinbigtrouble.Bigfuckingtrouble.I’dconstructedabeliefsystemaroundtheincidentlastweek,effectivelyconvincingmyselfithadn’tbeenasgoodasIremembered.Itcouldn’tbe.Nothingcouldbeasgoodasthoseoppressivememoriesofherskinandherheatandhersounds.Nothing.
ButthatbeliefsystemwasbullshitandIwasintroublebecauseIcouldn’tstandthiswoman,thoughI’dfallapartrightnowifIcouldn’thaveheragain.
“Idon’tknowbutwhatthefuckareyoudoingtome?”Shethrashedherheadonthepillow,herhairflyingaroundherinawildcloud.Ihookedherotherlegaroundmywaist,leaneddowntoswipemytongueoveranippleinneedofattention.“Yourcockisgoingtoripmeinhalf.”
Isnatchedupthehandshehadfistedoverhermouth,setitonthebackofmyneck.“Woulditkillyoutoputyourhandsonme?Goddamn,woman,getinthegame.”
“IfIstarttouchingyou,Idon’tthinkI’mevergoingtostop.”ShecurledherfingersaroundmyhairasIrockedintoher,harderandharderwitheverytighteningtwist.“That’swhy.”
“Notagoodenoughreason.”IglancedawaybecauseIcouldn’tlookatherrightnow.Notwhenshewasgivingmeeyesthatsaidit’sthetruthandIdon’tknowwhattodoaboutit.Ididn’thaveasolutionbutIdidhaveavibratorandthatwasprettymuchthesamething.“Youbetterholdon,youlittlehellcat.Idon’thavealotofpatienceforyourightnow.”
“Whendoyouever?”Shepulledherlegfrommyshoulderandshifted,lockingheranklesaroundmywaist.Withthathandinmyhair,sheforcedmedown,broughtmymouthtohers.“Notyet,”shewhispered,battingthevibratoraway.“Don’tuseityet.I’mnotreadyforthistoend.”
“AndyouthinkIam?”Pressuregatheredatthebaseofmyspinelikeahot,blazingstar,throbbingbeforeitburnedallthewayout.“Justtrustmeforafuckingsecond,okay?”
Sheblinkedupatme,nodded.Herlipssaid“Okay”buttherewasnosound.Shehookedanarmunderoneofmine,wrappingherhandovermyshoulderlikeshedidtrustmebutsheneededsomethingtokeephersteadywhileshedidit.
Ialmoststoppedandtoldherthiswasamistake.Sheshouldn’ttrustmeandIshouldn’thaveaskedforthatfromher.Icouldn’tdoanyofthethingssheneeded,notbeyondthissingularmomentofsexandsparring.
Iheldmytongue.Ididn’tknowwhy.
IpulledoutjustenoughtopositionthevibratorwhereIwanteditandthenthrustbackinsideasthefirstpulsesrattledagroanfrombothofus.Anyonewhopassedontoyswithapartnerwasmissingthehellout.Thiswasnext-levelfucking.Ididn’thavetotweakmywristtryingtogiveherclittheattentionitneeded,andallthewhilethoserumblesdidoutstandingthingsformetoo.
Shekeptherselflockedaroundmyshoulder,hernailscuttingintomyskineverytimeIbottomedout.Thepillowsweregone,onceagain,andtheblanketsafuckingdisaster.Herheelswerediggingmean,bonybruisesintothesmallofmybackandIcouldn’twaittogroanaboutitinthemorning.Ihadnodepthperceptiontospeakofrightnowbutitseemedlikewe’dfuckedthebedatleastafootawayfromitsoriginalpositionagainstthewall.Shebreathedhersoftgaspsagainstmyearwhilesherakedherfingersovermyscalp,drawingscrapesandswirlsthatmademyeyelidsheavyandmyfacetingle.IclosedmyeyestodrowninthosesensationsandIkeptthemshutbecauseshe’dseeamilliondifferentthingsifshemetmygazeandIcouldn’triskasingleoneofthem.
Atremorsnakeddownmylegsassheclenchedhardaroundme.ThekindofclenchthatsaidshewascloseandallIhadtodowasgetherthereandthenIcouldstartresentingherformakingmeworksohardatprovingherownruleswrong.
“Fuck.Whatareyoudoingtome?”Ihadn’tintendedtosaythat.I’dheardthewordsinmyheadbeforeIrealizedIwassayingthemoutloud.
“Idon’tknow,”shewhispered,hervoicehoarse.“Whatareyoudoingtome?”
“Justgetthere,Shap,”Igrowled.Itwasgoodtobebackonsolidlyhostileground.
“Whothefuckdoyouthinkyouare?Getthere,Shap,”shemimicked.“Givemeareasontogetthere.”
“Youaredemonic,howaboutthat?Yourhellcatdemonbodyistorturingmerightnowandifyoudon’tfuckinggetthere,Ireservetherighttoputyouonyourkneesandmakeyouchokeonthisdicklikethebratyouare.Howaboutthatforareason?”
“Okay,fuckyes,thatworks,”shepanted.
Iwould’veknownitworkedevenifshehadn’tsaidso.Herpussywasmoltenlava,shewouldn’tstopsquirming,andherhandswereeverywhere.Myhair,myshoulder,myneck—everywhere,allatonce.“There’smygoodgirl.”
“Oh,no,no,don’tyoudarewiththatagain,”sheyelledintomyshoulder.“Notunlessyou’recommittedtoit.Don’tteasemelikethat.”
“Icancommit.YouknowIcan.”Iblinkeddownather.“NowgivemewhatIaskedfor,youlittlebrat.”
“Ihateyou,”shegroundoutassheexplodedaroundme.
“It’sallright,honey,youcanhatemeallyouwant.”
Shebattedthevibratorawayandproceededtosuckonmyneckasshecameinthemostgorgeouschorusofquiethumsandwails.
Itwaslikemeditationbutinsteadofgettingincontrolofherthoughts,hercuntwascontrollingmyentirelife.
Ilastedallofasecondafterthespasmsrolledthroughherchannel.Thatwasit.Asinglesecondbetweenaddinganotherpointtothescoreboardandmyballssaying,Yeah,that’senough.We’regood.
Withthecondomfullandmychestheaving,Idroppedmyheadbetweenherbreasts.Theyreallyweregreat.Shewaswarmandsweatyanddeliciousthere,andIsawnoproblemwithaffixingmymouthtotheclosestnipple.
“Well.”Shehuffed.“Now,that’soverwith.”
Ibobbedmyheadagainstherchest.“Yeah.So.That’stheendofthat.”
Shegrazedherlipsovermyforehead.“Iguessyoucanleavenow.”
“Canyoucalmthefuckdown?Really.Idon’twanttobehereanymorethanyouwantmehereandI’mover-fucking-joyedtogetyououtofmysystem.I’llbeonmywayjustassoonasIcanfeelmylimbsagain.Allright?”
Sheloopedherarmsaroundmyshoulders.“Doyoudoanythingotherthancomplain?”
Itiltedmyheadbacktoglanceather.“IthinkyouknowIdomuchmorethancomplain.”
Sheshrugged,draggedafingerdownmyjaw.“Doesn’tsoundlikeit.”
Igrabbedahandfulofplushassandsqueezedhard.“Ihopeyouknowwhatyou’reaskingfor.”
Anothershrugwhileshetracedthetendonsinmyneck.“Ithoughtyouwereleaving.”
“Iam,”Isaid,draggingmyfingertipsaroundthecurveofherasstowhereshewasswollenanddrenchedandstillstuffedfullofme.“Inaminute.”
“Okay.”Shepoutedasshenoddedandthatwastheequivalentofissuingyetanotherchallenge.ItwaslikeshewasdaringmetoprovethatIcouldgetherarousedtwiceinanight.Makehercometwicemore.LikeIcoulddoanythingforher,ifshe’dletme.“Leave,then.Inaminute.”
Ibitthesideofherbreast.“Youreallyareademon.”
“Maybeyou’reademontoo.”Sheranahanddownmybackandthenupagain.Icouldn’thelpbutsighinpleasureatthetrailofsparkssheleftonmyskin.“Haveyoueverthoughtaboutthat?”
Ishookmyhead.“IwillwhenIleave.Inaminute.”CHAPTER13SEBASTIAN
Ididn’tleaveaminutelater.
Ididn’tgetheroutofmysystemeither.
Thiswasn’ttheend.Notbyamile.
AndIdidn’tknowwhatthefucktodoaboutthat.CHAPTER14SARA
“Thiscan’tbeit,”Imurmured.
“Lookslikeitis,”Stremmelreplied.
“Itcan’tbe,”Isaid,moreheatedthistime.“There’sjustnowaywe’resupposedtorowourselvesdowntheriver.”IshookmyheadatthecollectionofsmallboatslinedupalongthedockinfrontofusattheMassachusettsInstituteofTechnologySailingPavilion.“Wedon’tevenknowwhatwe’redoing.”
“Icanagreewiththat,”hesaidunderhisbreath.
“We’lljusttellMilanathiswasabridgetoofar.”
Besideme,Sebastiansnorted.WhenIturnedaglareinhisdirection,hesaid,“It’sfunny.Therearebridgesoneithersideofus.I’masshockedasanyonethatyousaidsomethingpassablyhumorous.”WhenIwentonglaringathim,hecontinued,“We’rehere.It’sthefirstthinginthefuckingmorningandit’sbrightashellbutwe’reheresolet’sgetitoverwith.Whynot?Weonlyhavetogetfromheretothere.”HegestureddowntheCharlesRivertowardtheLongfellowBridgeandthedockslocatedimmediatelybeforeit.“See?HerearetheinstructionsMilanaleft.‘Crosstherivertogettotheotherside.’Easy.Itwilltakehalfanhour,tops.”
Iblinkedathim,completelyunconvinced.“Doyouevenknowhowtoswimordoyourelyonthategoforbuoyancy?”
“DoIknowhowtoswim?”hemuttered.“I’mfromFlorida.OfcourseIknowhowtoswim.”
Ieyedhimwithatouchofwaryamusement.“BeingfromFloridacanmeanmanythings,Stremmel.Noguaranteesinthat.”
“Wellthen,MissQuippyQuestions,doyouknowhowtoswim?”Hestarteddownthedock,notwaitingformyreply.
“Yes,”Icalled.“I’mfromSouthernCalifornia.”
“Thatexplainsafewthings,”hetossedoverhisshoulder.
“Whyareyousoexcitedtogetinalittleboatonfreezingwaterwithme?”Isaidtohisback.“You’reuncharacteristicallyeagertodothis.”
“Becauseitwillbequick,andifwedon’tdoit,we’llpissawayanotherweekendmorningwithadifferentactivity.”
“Butthatactivitywon’tinvolveacanoe—orkayak—orwhateverthehellthisthingis,”Isaidwithagesturetowardthetwo-seatedboatattheendofthedock.
“ButIamalreadyoutofbed,”hegrowledback.Ihadtoswallowhardtokeepfromfeelingthatgrowlinsideme.“AndIdon’twanttogiveupanotherweekendmorning.Icherishmybedtime.”
TheimageofasleepySebastianswaddledinblanketsandmorningsunlightwasnotoneIneededatthemoment.Still,itwastheoneIgot.
“Here.”Sebastianshovedalifevestinmydirection.“Putthison.”
“Sincewhenareyouinchargeofthisexercise?”
“I’mnotgettingintoanotherendlessdebatewithyou,”hesaid.“Putonthevest.Getintheboat.Shutthehellup.”
“Youcanwaitadamnminute,”Isaid,digginginmybag.“Givemeyourphone.”
“IfIwantedtochuckitintheriver,I’ddoitmyself,thanks.”
“Givemeyourphone,”Irepeated.“IfweflipthisboatlikeIthinkwewill,I’drathernotlosemyphoneintheprocess.See?”Iheldupareusablesiliconepouch.“They’llfloatandstaydry.”
Heglaredatthepouchashehandedoverhisdevice.“Youhadcroutonsintheretheotherday.”
“You’regoingtohavetochoose,Stremmel.Croutoncrumbsorriverwater.Can’tmakethatchoiceforyou.”
Hesighedashecastascowloverthewater.“I’mtoooldforthisshit.”
“You’renotwrongaboutthat,”IsaidasIsecuredtheitemsinmybag.
“YouthinkI’mold?”
“Ithinkyoucraveattentionandoftengetitthroughself-deprecatingmeans.”Izippedmyfleecejacketallthewayuptomychin.“Aren’tyousupposedtobeintheboat?Whatareyouwaitingfor?”
Heturnedthatdark-eyedscowlonme,theonethatshould’vetrippedallmyfranticpeople-pleasingalarmsbutonlyhitmewiththebuzzofachallenge.Ididn’thavetorescueanyonefromthosescowls,leastofallme,notwhenIcouldstandtoetotoeagainstthem.Hecouldyellandgrowlandcomplainallhewanted.Itdidn’tscareme.Itdidn’tevenbotherme—andthatmadehardlyanysenseatall.
Sharpwordsandascowlofthatmagnitudeshould’vesentcoldpanicthroughmyveinsyetallIcouldfeelwastheabsolutecertaintythatIhadnothingtofear.Thatscowlwastheleastthreateningthingintheworld.NotonlythatbutIwasfirmlyincontrolhere.
“Allright,Shap,”hegrumbled.“Getthatfuckingveston,wouldyou?”
***
Itdidn’ttakethirtyminutestogetacrosstheriver.Ittookusthirtyminutestopushofffromthedockandpointtheboatintherightdirection.
Onmostdays,ItookpleasureinSebastianbeingwrong.Thiswasnotoneofthosedays.
“Weneedtorowmoretotheleft,”Isaid,liftingtheleftoarforemphasis.
“Couldyoujuststop?Seriously,doless.You’regoingoneway,I’mgoingtheother.You’refuckingusallup.”
Ihookedaglanceovermyshoulderathim.“Ifanyone’stheproblemhere,it’syou.”
“Ifyou’dletmedotherowing,wewouldn’thavethisproblem,”hefiredback
“I’mnotgoingtositherewhileyourowustotheboathouse,”Isaid,slappingmyoaragainstthesurface.TheoarconnectedwiththewaterharderthanI’dintended,sendingaspraybackatSebastian.
“Shap,”hegrowled.“Therewillbenosplashingthismorning.”
“Itwasanaccident!”
“Youcausealotofaccidents,”hemuttered.“Somethingtoconsider.”
Wegotouroarsintopositionandstartedrowinginaslow,sloppyrhythm.Weweren’tgoinganywherequicklybutweweren’tveeringoffinacirclethistime.Atthispace,wehadatleastanotherhourofrowingaheadofus.
“Youknow…thisisbullshit,”Sebastiangrumbledfrombehindme.
“Whatareyoucomplainingaboutnow?”
“Alltheseexerciseswherewehavetoworktogethertogettotheend—they’rebullshit.”
“Didyoujustnowdiscoverthepointofallthis?”Iasked.“Andifso,canIaskwhereyouwenttomedschoolbecauseIhavequestions.”
“UCLA,andno,Ididn’tdiscoveritnow.I’mjustannoyedaboutitnow.”
Iglancedbackathim.“UCLA?IwenttoUSCundergrad.”
“WhatdidItellyouaboutthesplashing!”heyelledasheranahanddownhisfaceandshookwaterdropletsfromhisfingers.“YouwanttotalkaboutLA,youdoitwithoutturningaroundorwigglinginyourseat.ThenexttimeIgetwet,yougetwet.”
Iknewwhathemeant.
Iunderstoodthecontextclearly.
Theonlytroublewas,hewasrightbehindme.Rightthere.Andthosewordsweresoroughandimpatientanddeepthattheprimordialportionofmybrainheardsomethingdifferentthanathreataboutroguewavesinrowing.Mybrainheardgrowlsandgroans,andskinmovingtogether.Mybrainheardalltheunthinkablygoodthingsthathappenedwhenwearguedwhilenaked.Mybrainlovedthosesounds.
AndIhatedthatIwentthere.Ihatedthathecouldawakenthosethoughtsinmewithouttrying.IhatedthatIwantedit,regardlessofwhetheritwasvery,verybadforme.
“Atwhatpointdowegoaheadandbeateachotherwiththeoars?”Iasked.“I’mwonderingbecauseI’dliketogetinasmuchsplashingaspossiblebeforethattime.”
“You’reasociopath,”hemurmured.
“Arewediagnosingeachothernow?Becausethatwillbefun.”
Hemadeanoise,somethinglikealaughthat’dtakenanunexpectedturnintoagroan.“Maybelater.”
“Theoarbeating?Orthediagnosing?”
Hedidn’trespondtothatverballybutthesighhereleasedcould’vefilledoursails…ifwehadanysails.
Wefoundtherhythmagainandmadedecentprogressthoughitneverseemedliketheboathousegotanycloser.Myarmsweresomewherebetweenthefireandnoodlestages.
Eventually,Sebastiansaid,“DidyoustayinCaliforniaafterUSC?”
“No.”Ishookmyhead.I’dneededroomtobreathethen.NeededtobefarenoughawayfromhomethatIcouldestablishboundaries,eveniftheonlyboundarywasdistance.“Hopkinsmed.Columbiaresidency.StayedinNewYorkforfellowship.”
Therewasapause.Then,“Really.”
Ishiftedtoglanceathim.“Wait.DidyoujustrealizeI’mcompetent?”
“Didyoujustturnaroundandsplashmeagain?”heasked,shakingthewateroffhissleeve.“JesusChrist,Shap.Ihopeyou’repreparedformetoturnhypothermicbackhere.”
Iwaggedafingerathim.“YoujustdecidedI’mnotsomerandomplasticsairheadwhoonlyknowsBotoxandbreastimplants,didn’tyou?”
Hecrossedhis(soaked)armsoverhis(soaked)chestandglancedatStorrowDrivetotheright.“I’veneversuggestedyouaren’tqualified.”
Ilaughed.“You’vesuggestedyou’remorequalified.Now,Idon’thaveanymedschoolrankinglistsonmeatthemomentbutI’mprettysuretheHopkinssurgicalprogramhasbestedUCLAafewtimes.Columbiatoo.Doesthatsoundrighttoyou?Whatdoyouthink,Stremmel?I’dreallyloveyourprofessionalinput.Arealpeer-to-peermomentifyoucouldmanageitforme.”
AndthatwaswhenIgotwet.
Withfrigidriverwater.
“Shutupandrow,”hesaid.
“You’renotgoingtotossoutyourresidencystats?Noteventryingtogetbackinthegame,areyou?”
Anotherbracingsplashofwaterhitthesideofmyfaceandarm.ItwasawfulandIwascoldinmybonesbutIlaughedasIshookitoffbecauseitwassomuchfuntoharassthisman.
“Unlessyou’dliketoseehowlongittakesustosinkthisboat,I’dlikeyoutoshutup,”hesaid.“AndI’dlikeyoutodoitnow.”
***
Ittookusmorethanthreehoursbuteventuallywemadeittotheboathouse,andwediditwithoutgettingcompletelysoaked.Mostlybutnotcompletely.
“Neveragain,”Sebastiansaidashereachedhisoartothedock.
“Thatgroupoverthere,thefoursome,theyleftatthesametimewedidbuttheywentintheoppositedirection,”Isaid,wavingtowardtheotherrowersonthewater.“They’reallthewaydownattheLongfellowBridgenow.Idon’tknowmuchaboutthisrowingstuffbutIdon’tthinkwe’reverygood.Wemightbebadatthis.”
Sebastianpushedoutoftheboatandsteppedontothedock.HereachedbacktohelpmebutIwavedhimoff.“We’retragic,”hesaid,hishandsperchedonhishipsashescannedthewater.“Butthosepeople”—hejerkedhischininthedirectionofthefoursome—”they’reprofessionals.”
“Youthink?”
“Orcollegiateathletes.Thesearenotordinarypeoplewhodothisforfunorexercise,or,youknow,sadomasochism.Theseare—oh,shit,that’sStantonfromnephrology,isn’tit?”
Adispleasedsoundechoedinhisthroat,somethingresemblingaboredsnarl.
Ibrushedmyhandstogetherastheirboatblewpastononeperfectlycoordinatedstroke.DespitebeingterribleatrowingandwearyfromputtingupwithSebastian’scomplaining,Iwasbouncingonmyheelsfromalltheendorphins.It’dbeenanintenseexercise,physicallydemandingbutalsoemotionallydemanding.Rowingwascomplicatedandmoderatelydangerousforpeoplewhodidn’tknowwhattheyweredoing,anditrequiredatonofcommunication.Wedidthis—together—andwedidn’tkilleachother.Thatwasareallybigdeal.Wecould’vemadequitethehorrorshowofthis.
Mybloodwashumming,IfeltlikeIcoulddoanycrazyteam-buildingtask,andIwantedtoburnallthisfizzyenergyimmediately
“So,thatwas”—Igesturedtowardourboat.
“Yeah.”Henodded,hishandsstillonhiswaist.“Itreallywas.”
“IthinkIdeservesomekindofcommendationfornotcrackingyourskullwithanoar.”
Herolledhiseyes,saying,“ThenIdeservethesamecommendationandlet’snotforgetaboutthehypothermia.You’reluckyit’sawarmday.”
Ipulledhisphonefrommybag,makingapointtobrushoffanycrumbsitmight’vecollected.“Listen,Iknowyoucomebythatthinbloodhonestly,beingfromFloridaandall,butit’snotthatcoldhere.Buckup,buttercup.”
Heacceptedhisdevicefromme,hisgazefixedonmine.“It’sfuckingfreezingheremostoftheyear.”
Ishrugged.“ThengobacktoLosAngeles.”
Hematchedmyshrug.“Can’t.”
“Whynot?”
“BecauseIhatethecoldandtheforty-twodifferentseasonsthiscityexperiencesandtheleaves”—ithadtobenotedthathesaidleaveswithjazzhands,andIcouldn’ttellifthosewereironicjazzhandsornot—”andthencobblestones,whichmust’vebeeninventedbyanorthopedicsurgeon,andeverythingisoldasfuckandthat’ssupposedtobespecial,andtheroads”—hecringedwithhisentirebody—”thefuckingroadslooklikeachildwithnoobjectpermanencedrewthem.Theymakenosense,noneatall,anddon’tgetmestartedonthesports.Thesepeopleandtheirsports.Mygod.Doyouknowabouttheturkeys?Thereareturkeyshere,Shap,they’reallovertheplace,theydon’tappreciatethatwe’resharingtheirhabitat,andthey’llchasethefuckoutofyouifyou’renotcareful.Andthenthere’sthecoffee,whichusedtobetheonlypartofmydaythatdidn’tpissmeoffbutnowIcan’tjustordercoffee,Ihavetoalsojoinacult.Andyoucan’tpark.Youjustcan’tparkinthistown.Don’ttry.Notworthit,butitmeansyouhavetowalkonthedangerrocksandyoubetterbelievethey’llbeslipperyashellbecausealltheleavescamedownbetweenhotwindseasonandcoldhurricaneseasonsoyou’llrollananklejusttododgetheturkeysandorderaregularcoffeewhichyoumustdrinkwithcreamandsugarbyorderofthecultbutit’sgoingtobefreebecauseoneofthesportsteamsfinallywonagame—andthankfuckforthatbecausethey’renotoutdrivingdrunkorbeatingoneachotherforoneblessednight.”Hegaveabriskshakeofhishead.“That’swhyIcan’tleave.”
Ihadtobitemyliptokeepfromlaughing.“Becauseyouhateeverything?”
“Yeah.IhateitallsothoroughlythatI’msureI’dneverfindanywhereelsetohatewithsuchcompleteness.Withoutallofthisresentment,I’dbeemptyinside.”
“Oh,sothat’swhatitis.”Ireachedout,ranmyhandfromhischesttohiswaist.Blametheendorphinsforthis.”Resentment.”
“Alsoavocado.”Heglancedatme,halfasmileonhislipsandaquestioninhisbrows.Fair,seeingasI’djustrubbedhisbelly.“WhenIcanfindadecentone.”
Istudiedhim,stilltryingtosuppressthatlaugh.“AndtherumorsI’veheardaboutyoubeingthenextChiefofEmergencySurgery?Thathasnothingtodowithyourinsistenceonstayingherewiththeterribleavocadosandthecoldhurricanes?”
SebastianstartedupthedocktowardtheEsplanade,thefootpaththatranthelengthoftheCharlesontheBostonsideoftheriver.Wewereablockawayfromthehospitalandanotherblockfromourapartmentbuildingthoughhewasn’theadinginthatdirection.
“Idon’tknowaboutthat.”Heslippedhishandsintohisjeanpockets.“Nothinghasbeenfinalized.EspeciallynotwhileI’mstuckintreatmentwithyouforapparentangerissues.”Heshotmeaknowingglance.“HowdoyoulikeBoston?ComingfromNewYorkandSouthernCaliforniaandall.”
Ilookedaround.“It’snice.IneverimaginedmyselflivinginasmalltownbutIlikeithere.It’squaint.”
Hebarkedoutalaugh.“Youarebrutal.”
“You’vementionedthatbefore.”Igrinnedathim.“Bostonwasagoodchangeforme.”Especiallyaftermydad’scollegeroommatewasappointedChiefofSurgeryatmylasthospital.“IlikedNewYorkalotbutitwasnevermytown.”
“Andnowyougettoenjoytheleaves.”ThejazzhandsmadeanotherappearanceandnowIwasfullysmiling.Damnendorphins.”Look.I’mstarvingandIrequireagallonofcoffee.YoucaninterrogatemeaboutthiswhenI’mcaffeinated.”
“Ihavelittledesiretointerrogateyou,”Isaid,turningdownthepath,awayfromSebastian.“Enjoythatcoffee.”
“Wait.Wait,”hecalled.“Comeon.We’llgetbreakfast.”
Hotteasoundedgood.Maybetoast.But—“I’veenduredonemealwithyou.Idon’tneedarepeat.”
“Whyareyoulikethis?”Hefellinstepwithmeandtookholdofmyelbow,turningmebackinhisoriginaldirection.“Iactuallyneedananswer.”
“You’llhavetoexplainwhatyoumeanasI’mcertainIdon’tknow.”
Iknew—ofcourseIknew.Iwasmessyandaloof.ThatragingbitchofminepokedholesinalotofmyrelationshipsbutIneededtheboundariesthoseholescreated.Thegoodgirlcouldbefriendanyoneandpeople-pleaseherwaytosomesuper-destructivebehaviors.Iknewallofthesethings—Ijustwantedtohearhimarticulateafewofthemandseehowlongittookforhimtodescribemeasbitchytomyface.
Hewassilentforaconsiderabletime,longenoughtomakemewonderwhetherhe’drespondorditchthequestionaltogether.Then,asweapproachedtheFielderFootbridge,hesaid,“Imean,you’reafive-foot-whateverplasticsurgeonwithallthishair”—hegavemyponytailasharptug—”andyoutakezeropercentofmyshit,whereasmostpeopletakeaminimumoffiftypercent,oftenupwardofseventypercent.Whythefuckareyoulikethis?”
Iglancedathimaswecrossedthebridge.Hehadn’t…hehadn’tsaidanythingI’dexpected.ThatI’dpreparedmyselftohear.“Idon’tdrinkcoffee.”
“Ofcourse.Tornadoesdon’trequirecaffeineforpropulsion.Justoxygen.”
Withalaugh,Isaid,“Icouldgoforsometea.Maybetoastor,Idon’tknow,amuffin.Noblueberriesthough.”
“Didyou—wait.”HestoppedwalkingbutIcontinuedonashesaid,“Didyouagreewithme?Whatthehell?I’vealwaysheardpeopletalkingabouttheeffectsofseaairbutI’veneverseenitfirsthand.Thisisamazing.”
“Idon’tbelievewe’recloseenoughtotheseaforanysucheffects,”Icalled.
Hejoggedtocatchupwithme.“There’salittlebrunchplaceupahead.Theyhavebakerystuff.Bread.Youknow,fortoast.”
Ididn’trespondtothatbecauseIcouldn’tdecidewhetherIwasmakingacolossalmiscalculationbygoingalongwiththisorsimplyhavinganordinary,healthyinteraction.CouldIhaveanormal,healthyinteractionwithamanwhenourentirerelationshipwasextraordinaryandprofoundlyunhealthy?Wasthatpossible?Whataboutthisman?CouldIdoitwithhim?
ButIfeltgoodandenergized,andIdidn’twanttostranglehimrightnow,notentirely.Maybethiswasn’tamiscalculation.Maybeitwasjustteaandcoffee,andenjoyingoursuccessinnotdrowningoneanotherthismorning.Itdidn’thavetomeananything.
WecutthroughseveralsidestreetstowardthecaféonthecornerofMt.VernonStreet.“Upahead,”hesaid,turninghisfacetothesun.Theraysshonebrightagainsthisdarkhair.“It’swarm.Howdoesthishappen?Therewasfrostyesterdaymorningandwe’reinthestrangelyhotandalsospookypartofOctobernow.Asifthat’snormal.”
“Youcancomplainaboutthecoldbutnottheheat,”Isaid,strippingoffmyfleecejacket.Irolledmyshouldersasthestrainfromtherowingthrobbedinresponse.“Oh,shit.Thisisnotgood.”
“Isaidonethingabouttheerraticautumnweather,”hereplied.“Nothingelsetosay—onthattopic.”
“Imeantmyshoulders,”Isaid.“Ididn’tthinkI’dfeelitsomuch.Ihavethreeskingraftsback-to-backtomorrowandIreallydon’tneedmyhandsshakingbecauseI’mremarkablybadatrowing.”
Westoppedoutsidethecafé.Isteppedtowardthewindowstoreadthemenupostedtherewhilekneadingmyoverworkedmuscles.IneededtomakesuretherewassomethingI’dactuallyeat—notjusthateandpickatforhalfanhourwhilepretendingeverythingwasfine—beforegoinginside.Icouldn’tsittherewithacupofteaandanswerquestionsaboutwhatIdidordidn’teatasI’dpreferfallingintoabogtoanysuchdiscussion.
“Enoughofthat,”Sebastiangrowled,battingmyhandsaway.
Iexpectedalectureaboutmeworkingthewrongspotorabitofhimrevelinginmydiscomfort.Ididn’texpecthimtobringhishandstomyshouldersandworkhisfingersintotheknotsgatheredatthebaseofmyneck.
“I—uh,”Isaid,myeyesdriftingshutashepressedintothetenderspots.“You’renotevengoingtotaketheshotandagreethatI’mbadatrowing?”
HeworkedhiswaydowntheridgeofmyshoulderstomyupperarmsandIreallydidn’tunderstandthis.Weweren’tintheapartmentfoyerandnoonewasyellingandwhendidsidewalkmassagesbeforebrunchbecomesomethingwedid?Together?Howdiditbecomepartofourpowerstruggle,andwherewasIwhenthattransformationoccurred?
“Nope,notgoingtodothat.”Hewassoclose.IfIleanedbackatinybit,I’dconnectwithhischest.“ThoughI’mnotintheORtomorrowandIdidoffertohandletherowingsothisisentirelyyourfault.”
“Oh,great,”Isaid.“I’mgladwe’rebacktoassigningfault.That’sfun.Whenshouldwestartonthepsychiatricdiagnoses?”
“Whyhaven’tIseenyouatanyofAcevedo’sdinnerparties?”heasked.
Istifledagroan.Therewasnowaytogointoadinnerpartyasbothanintrovertandacriminallypickyeaterandcomeoutalive.Eventhestrongest,mostfullyrecoveredpartsofmestruggledwiththisbecauseitwassimplyrudetogotosomeone’shomeandnoteatthefoodtheyprepared.Itwasn’tpeople-pleasingthistime.Itwasmanners—andbadmannerswereonebigpeople-pleasingfiredrill.
“I’vebeenthereseveraltimes.”Mytonewaswaytoodefensivetobebelievable.Itriedagain.“Nickisamazingandhiswifeisreallysweet.I’vealwayshadagoodtimewhenI’vebeentotheirhouse.Itjustdoesn’tworkoutallthetime.That’sall.”
“Acevedolivedinthethird-floorapartmentbeforeme,”Sebastiansaid.“EmmerlinghasbeenonthesecondfloorforaslongasI’veknownherand—”
“AndCalHartshornlivedinmyapartmentbeforeme.Iknow.I’mfamiliarwiththerecenthistoryofthedoctordorm.”
Hemurmuredsomethingasheworkedbackuptomyshouldersandneck.“I’mjustsaying,it’sagoodgroup.”
“Yesandthat’snotintimidatingatall,”Isang.
“Excusemebutdidyoujustsuggestyoufindanyoneintimidating?BecauseI’mprettysureyoucouldboilwaterwithnothingmorethanyourside-eyeasaheatsource.”
“Hasanyoneevertoldyouthatyouexaggerateprofusely?”
“No.Never.Thatiscompletelynewinformation.”Hebrushedtheloosestrandsfrommyneckandtwistedmyponytailaroundhisfist.“TheAcevedosarehavingasmallpartyinafewweeks.Youshouldcome.”
ItriedtoshakemyheadbuthestrokedathumbdownthelineofmyneckandImeltedalittlemore.“Iwillhavetothinkaboutthat,”Imanaged.
“What’stheretothinkabout?Acevedo’smakingtacos.Endofdeliberation.”
“MaybeIhaveotherplans,”Isaid.
“Maybeyoushouldcancelthem.”
“MaybeIdon’tlikeparties,”Ireplied.
“NeitherdoI,”hesaid.“Idon’tlikepeople.They’reexhausting.”WhenIdidn’trespond,hecontinued.“Youshouldcomeanyway.”
“Why?”
IftherewasonethingIalwayswanted—regardlessofwhetheritwashealthyorsafe—itwasapproval.Chooseme,includeme,praiseme,validateme.Iwanteditwhenitwasunavailable—hello,mother;hello,father—andIwanteditwhenitdidn’tmakesense.Likerightnow.IwantedSebastiantotellmethathewantedmeatthisparty.Nodamnsense—andalso,whatthefuckwaswrongwithme?
Wewerewhite-knucklingitthroughconflictresolutioncounseling,notcouplingupfordinnerpartieswiththefriendgroup.
“You’rethinkingtoohard,Shap.It’stacosandAcevedo’snewresidents.Hartshornwillshowupatleastanhourlate,Emmerling’shusbandwilldosomethingcrazylikeclimbingontherooftochecktheshingles,andO’RourkewilltellstoriesaboutMinnesota.”
“Andwhataboutyou?Whichroledoyouplay?”
“Ifindacomfortablespottositandnotspeaktoanyone.Butlisten,youshouldcomealong.Allanyonetalksaboutissurgery,thefoodisamazing,andthepeoplearechill.You’dlikeit.”
“Thatsounds…”Honestly,itsoundedfun.ButalsooverwhelmingandimpossibletoslipawayunnoticedwhenIwasmaxedout.“ItsoundsgreatbutIreallyneedsometimetocheckmyschedule.”
Hestoppedrubbingmyshouldersandpeeredatme.“What’stherealissue?”
Ipivotedtofacehim.“Whydoesitmatter?”
“Becausetherearepeoplefallingoverthemselvestospendtimewithyoubutyoucan’tbebothered,andIjustwanttoknowwhy.”
“Iamnotrequiredtoexplainmyselftoyou,”Isaid.“You’reentitledtoexactlynothingfromme.”
“Oh,trustme,honey,I’maware.”Hecrossedhisarmsoverhischest.Ididthesame.“Forthelifeofme,Ican’tunderstandtheirthinkingonthisbutNickandErinhavesomeonetheywantyoutomeet.”
“What…doesthatmean?”
“ItmeansErinhasafriend,someprofessorguy,andshethinksyoutwocouldhititoff.”Hescowledatthis,saying,“Can’treallyseewhythey’dwanttotorturetheguybutwhatever.I’mjusttheassholetaskedwithgettingyouthere.Notmyproblemafterthatpoint.”
Istaredathimforalongmoment,rememberinginahorriblerushwhythatapprovalkinkofminewassodangerous.EverytimeIallowedmyselftobelieveI’dgettheinclusionandrecognitionIwanted,shamewaswaitingtheretoslapmebackforthinkingIdeservedanythingofthesort.
Sebastiandidn’twantmeattheparty,andIwasstupidforthinkingotherwise.ButIwasn’tgoingtoshrinkinfrontofthisman.
“So,youdrewtheshortstraw?”Iasked.
“Don’tIalways?”Herolledhiseyestowardtheskybeforesaying,“SinceIgettospendsomuchqualitytimewithyou,I’msupposedtoclosethedeal.”Hefrownedashelookedmeupanddown.“Isitworking?”
Ireachedintomybag,pulledoutmyphone.“Oh,yeah.It’sworking.”IopenedatextmessagetoAcevedo.“Consideryourmissionaccomplished.I’mtellingNickthatI’llbethere.”IsentthemessageandshotSebastianasatisfiedgrin.“Ican’twaittomeetthisprofessor.Ihaveagoodfeelingaboutthis.”
Ididn’tthinkitwaspossibleforSebastian’sscowltodeepenbutitdid,turninghisentirefaceintoadark,scruffystormcloud.
Iglancedtothecafébehindme.“I’mnotinthemoodforteaanymore.”
Herepliedwithaslowblinkthatseemedtoindicatehewantedhishandsonmyneckagainthoughnottoworkoutmyknots.
“Enjoythecoffee,”Isaid,backingdownthestreet.“Andhatingeverything.Goodluckwithallthat.”
Ilefthimstaringaftermeandthatgavemeaquickjoltofpleasurebutitdidn’tlast.BeforeIevenreachedthenextblock,thepleasurewasgoneandinitsplacewasacold,crumblingdread.
Everytimeweclawedoutaninchofprogress,wefellbackafoot.Sinceneitherofuswerewillingtobudge,thecyclewentonrepeating.Ididn’tknowhowmuchlongerIcoulddothisbeforeitreallystartedtohurt.CHAPTER15SARA
Sara:Hey!Ihearthere’sathingatNickandErin’splaceinafewweeks?What’sthatabout?
Alex:Yeah,IrememberNickmentioningthattheotherday,butIwasn’tlisteningbecausemyresidentwasbeingafool.
Sara:Okay.
Alex:Areyouthinkingaboutcomingalong?
Sara:Sigh…
Sara:StremmelandIgotintoanargumentabouttheparty.ItextedNickonthespottosayI’dbethere.
Sara:Didn’tthinkthatoneallthewaythrough.
Alex:Ha.YouandStremmel,gettingintoanotherfight.Imaginethat.
Sara:Iknow,Iknow.
Alex:Youknowwhat’sfunnytome?Forthemostpart,you’recheerfulandenergetic,andevenwhenyou’retough,you’rekindandpositiveaboutit.Youarewidelyadmiredandappropriatelyfeared.It’sagreatbalance.I’mstillworkingonreachingthatlevelandwilldoanythingtoknowyoursecrets.ButthesecondyouseeStremmel,thewarpaintgoeson,theglovescomeoff,andyouthrowthefuckdown.Stremmelbreathesandyou’relike“I’mgonnakillthatmotherfuckerforallhismotherfucking!”
Sara:You’refeared.Don’tworry.
Alex:Feared,sometimes.Admired,rarely.
Sara:You’rebeingtoohardonyourself.
Alex:Andyou’rebeingtoohardonStremmel.IsaythesamethingtoRileyallthetime.HeletsStremmelpushhisbuttonsandthat’swhat’shappeninghere.
Sara:I’mnotsureifit’sexactlythesame…
Alex:Haveyoueverstoppedtoexaminewhichbuttonshe’spushingonyou?
Sara:Iamveryfamiliarwiththatbutton.Iknowitwell.
Alex:Thenmaybedon’tlethimkeeppressingit.
Sara:Yeah…I’llthinkaboutthat.
Alex:Pleasedo.
Sara:Therearelotsofnerveendingsinvolvedwiththatparticularbutton.It’sasensitiveone.
Alex:Believeme,Iunderstand,butyoucan’tletitrunyourlife.
Sara:Yeah.I’llthinkaboutthat.CHAPTER16SEBASTIAN
“Well,ifthisisn’tthemurderersrow,”O’Rourkecalledasheapproachedthepicnictableintheparkwherewe’dcongregatedforlunch.“IfIhaveEmmerling,Acevedo,Hartshorn,andStremmelallinonespot,isanyonecuttingrightnow?”
Hartshornleanedintomyside,asking,“Ishegoingtobeapainintheass?”
Iliftedashoulder.Itwasbitterlycold,notthatanyoneelsenoticed,andIwasinawretchedmood.ThelastthingIhadtimeforwasdecodingmyfellow’smercurialbehavior.“Hewasincredibleyesterday.Thismorningtoo.Whoknowswhatwe’llgetnow.”
“Neitherofyouarerequiredtobeassholes.Youdoitforfree,”Alexsaidunderherbreath.
“Blameme,”Acevedomurmured.“Iinvitedhim.”Evertheincluder,AcevedowavedO’Rourkeover.“Ihaveagrilledcheesewithyournameonit.”
“Thanks,man.”
O’RourkedroppedontothebenchbesideEmmerling,whosenthimameasuredglance.Hedidn’tnotice.“Grilledcheese?”sheasked.“Really.”
“It’soneofthethingsIpickedupfromMinnesota,”hereplied.“Adeepandabidingloveforcheese.”
“Yougotthat…fromMinnesota,”shesaid.
O’Rourkeunwrappedhissandwich,saying,“It’sveryclosetoWisconsinandalltheircheese.Andit’snotlikegooddairyfarmingstopsatthestatelines.Nah,thatshitpermeates.”
Hartshornbobbedhishead.“Icanseehowthatwouldbethecase.”
Ileveledastareatmyfellow.“Pleasetellmeyou’veclearedallyourpagesandconsults.”
“Nooneneedsme,noonewantsme,”herepliedaroundamouthfulofbreadandcheese.
Nickpassedahandoverhisfacetohideagrin.“Thatisonewaytoputit.”
“ArewetalkingaboutStremmel’sproblems?”O’Rourkeasked.Hepulledasmallspiral-boundnotebookfromhispocketandthumbedthroughthepages.“BecauseIhavethoughtsI’dliketocontribute.”
“I’mnotsureifthere’severatimewhenwe’renottalkingaboutStremmel’sproblems,”Alexmused.“It’sthatandHartshorntryingtogethiswifepregnantagain.That’sallwehavetoentertainourselves.Stremmelandspermcounts.”
Calglaredather.“Wehaveneveroncetalkedaboutmyspermcount.”
Alexheldupbothhands,shrugged.“Notdirectly,no,butifStellaisn’tpregnantnextmonth,we’llbeelbowdeepintocount,morphology,andmotility.”
CalturnedhisglareonNick.“Dosomethingaboutthis,wouldyou?”
“IheargoodthingsabouteatingwalnutsthoughIcan’tsayI’vereadtheresearch,”Nickreplied.“Otherwise,sticktothebasics.Avoidhottubsandswitchtoboxers.”
“Ihavereadtheresearchonthewalnutsandtheoutcomeswerepositive,”O’Rourkesaid,“formenunderthirty-five.”
CalHartshornwasinhislateforties,aformerarmyRangercapableofkillingeveryoneatthistablewithateaspoon,ourfuturebossassoonasthecurrentChiefofSurgeryretired,andpresentlygrindinghismolarsatmyfellow.
“Sothen,Stremmel’sproblems,”Nicksaid.“Whatdoyougotforus?”
O’Rourketappedagreasyfingertoapageinhisnotebook.“HewasanabsolutemonsteronMondayandthatwouldn’tbeespeciallystrangebutit’sthesecondMondayinarowhe’sbeenamonster.”
“That’sjust”—Alexwavedahandatme—”that’sneithernewnorconcerning.”
“No,you’reright,”O’Rourkeconceded,tappingthepageagain,“butDr.Shapiro’sresidentshaveobservedthesamepatternfromherandthey’veindicatedit’sanewdevelopment.Ofcourse,herworstisnowherenearStremmel’s—”
“Standintheeyeofthatstormandthentrysayingthattome,”Imuttered.
O’Rourkehitmewithaknowinggrin.IfthislittlefuckerwasgoingwhereIthoughthewasgoing,I’dborrowthatmurderspoonfromHartshornandkillhimhereinbroaddaylight.
“Shapiro’sresidentsdescribeherworstdaysasherbeingevenmorehigh-octanethanusual—whichsoundsfun,itreallydoes—buttheMondaypatterniswhat’snewhere.”O’Rourkepointedhistriangle-cutsandwichatme.“Havetowonderwhat’shappeningtomaketheseMondayssomonstrousallofasudden,huh?”
Nick,Alex,andCalstaredatme.“What?”Icried.“Ihavenoideawhatherproblemis.”
“Thenwhat’syourproblem?”Nickasked.
“Ihavenoproblems.”Whenthegroupshotmeunconvincedeyebrows,Iadded,“Nothingnew.Nothingbeyondmyusualstableofproblems.”
“WhereisShapiro?”Calasked.“Whydoesn’tsheevercometolunchwithus?”
“Shedoesn’tlikepeopling,”Alexreplied.“Yougottarespectherboundaries.”
Isnortedbecauseherboundariesweremyprivateropescourse.ThenIshovedfoodinmymouthandwavedoffalltheso-calledfriendsgapingatme.
“We’refriends,we’renotpeople,”Calargued.
“Friendsarepeople,”Nicktoldhim.
“Butshe’sveryoutgoingwheneverIseeher,”Calsaid.“Doesn’tstrikemeassomeonewhoneedsalotofalonetime.”
“Yourobservationdoesn’tmakeittrue.Lotsofpeoplecanbereallystronginworksettingsandthenrequiretwelvehoursofuninterruptedsilenceinordertogetupthenextdayanddoitallagain,”Alexsaid.“AndyouknowIloveyou,butIdon’tthinkyouguysareawareofhowsociallydemandingyoucanbe.”
“Wehaven’tbeendemanding,”Calsaid,lookingaroundthetableforsupport.“DidShapirosaywe’redemanding?”
“No,”Alexsaidfirmly.“ButIamtellingyouthatyoucanbealottohandle.Noteveryoneispreparedtobeinitiatedintoacrewthat”—sheheldupherhand,startedtickingoffonherfingers—”goesjoggingtogether,eatslunchtogether,hangsoutafterworktogether,hasatonofdinnerpartiestogether,evengoesonvacationstogether.”ShepointedatNickandCal.“Believeitornot,somepeopleleaveworkandelecttolivetheirliveswithouttheinvolvementoftheircolleagues.”
“Right,so,”Nickstartedwithagesturetowardme,“what’swrongwithyounow?”
“Nothingiswrongwithme,”Ireplied.
“YouwerebellyachingtomywifeonThursdaynightabouttheseconflictsessionswithShapiro,”hewenton.“Itstandstoreasonyou’dbepissedstraightthroughtoMonday.AmIwrong?”
“Fuck,yes,you’rewrong,”Ireplied.Thiswasgreat.Ididn’tevenhavetolie,seeingasI’dpissedmyselfoffwithhowIhandledthingswithSaraafterrowing.“WhatIdoonmyweekendsandwhyitmakesmemiserablehasnothingtodowiththoseThursdayafternoonsessions.”
Alexfoldedherarmsonthetable,leanedclosertoO’Rourke.Shewashooked.Entranced.“WhatareFridaymorningslike?”
“Well,”hestarted,“IactuallylearnedshitthesepasttwoFridays.That’sananomaly.Dr.Shapiro’sresidentsindicatedshewasveryrelaxedlastFriday.Oneofthemusedtheword‘mellow.’”
Hellyeah,shewas.IhadtostealAcevedo’sappletohidemygrinoverthat.
Calsnatchedupthebutcherpaperfromhissandwichandmine,saying,“Isthereapointtoanyofthis?We’resittingherereadingthetealeavesofthisbastard’sbehaviorasifthere’severanyrhymeorreasontohismoods.AndShapiro,well,Idon’tknowwhattosayaboutthat.Forallweknowit’sherresidents,theonessellingstoriesaboutherdownthehall,whoaretickingheroff.What’stheretobedoneaboutanyofthis?Nothing.”Hepushedtohisfeet.“Igottagofindsomewalnuts.”
“Idon’thaveapoint,”O’RourkesaidafterCalstalkedoff.“JustafewthingsI’venoticed.”
“That’sgreatbecauseIdon’tneedapoint,”Alexsaid.“ThoughIamwonderingifmyresidentsspendthismuchtimetalkingaboutmebehindmyback.”
“Theydon’t,”Nicksaid.
Atthesamemoment,Ireplied,“Ofcoursetheydo.”
“Howarethosesessionsgoing?”Alexasked.“Anyprogress?”
TherewasnowaytoanswerthatsoIdidn’t.“Defineprogress.”
O’Rourkeflippedapageinhisnotebook.“AnotherthingI’venoticed—”
Ireachedforthenotebookbuthepinneditunderhiselbow.“Oh,forfuck’ssake,that’senoughnoticingfromyou.”
“No,Ineedtohearthis,”Alexsaid.“Whatelse?”
“Everyonehasnoticedthattheytakegreatefforttoavoideachother,”O’Rourkesaid.“EspeciallyonThursdays.”
“Ifyouhavethismuchtimeonyourhands,I’mnotgivingyouenoughtodo,”Isaid.“Believeme,I’llfixthattoday.”
“Right,right,”O’Rourkemurmured.“BecauseI’msogoodatfollowingdirectionsandmeetingexpectations.”
Nickclappedmeontheshoulder.“Bestofluck.That’sallI’vegotforyou.Bestofluck.”
Iwasgoingtoneedit.CHAPTER17SARA
Alex:Domyresidentstalkaboutmebehindmyback?
Sara:Constantlybutyouhavetoignoreit.
Alex:Whyyyyyyyythough?
Sara:Becausethey’reresidents.Theyneedsomethingtogossipaboutandwe’reoneoftheeasiesttargets.
Alex:Howcanyoubesochillaboutthis?
Sara:I’mnot.I’vejustcompartmentalizeditenoughtobeabletosaythatit’snormalandit’snotaboutme.Icandisconnectmyselffromit.
Sara:Unlessthere’ssomethingyou’veheardthatyouthinkIshouldknow.
Alex:It’snotsomethingyouNEEDtoknow.I’dtellyouifitwas.It’sjustchatter.
Sara:NowIhavetoask.What’sthechatter?
Alex:Thetraumafellowappearstohavebefriendedsomeofyourresidents.
Sara:Hastobethetraumafellow,doesn’tit?
Alex:He’snoticedthatyouandStremmelseemtoavoideachotheronThursdays.
Sara:Hmm.That’saninterestingobservation.Can’tsayIavoidhimmoreonThursdaysthanIdoanyotherdayoftheweek.
Alex:LikeIsaid,chatter.
Alex:Anyway,RileyandIaregoingtoanewrestauranttonight.Willyoucomewithus?
Sara:Iamnotagreatthirdwheelbutthankyousomuchforthinkingofme.
Alex:Oneofthesetimes,I’llgetyou!
Sara:Justbehonest…you’rereallylookingforathirdinyourthreesome,aren’tyou?
Alex:It’sadamngoodthingyoudidn’tsaythataroundmyhusbandbecausehe’dneverbeabletounhearit,babe.CHAPTER18SARA
Inthisweek’ssession,wehadtocompleteamazegameusingvaguecluesMilanareadfromasetofcardsshekeptinajankyoldZiplocbag.Wehadtonavigatetaped-offsquaresonthefloorusingtheseclues.Anytimewemisinterpretedtheclues,weweresentbacktothebeginning.WewentbacktothebeginningeleventimesbeforeSebastianinsistedthatrequirementbesuspended.
He’ddemandedmybagoftrailmixuponarrival.Itwasmostlypretzelsonaccountofanoverlyambitiousrun-inwithbabycarrotsthepreviousday,andhesortedouttheraisinsasIwatched.
Thatevening,he’dbentmeoverthebackofmysofa.WhenwewerefinishedandIwasahoarse,bonelesswreck,heleftmeonthatsofa,ablankettuckeduptomychinandaglassofwaterwithinreach.
***
Thefollowingweek,weroleplayeddifficultconversationsfromabinderwithDemandingDialoguesinHealthcaresplashedacrossthefront.Sebastianrolledhiseyesintonextmonthatmycroutonsandthenhelpedhimselftotherye,whichweremyleastfavorite.
WeyelledandstumbledoverseveraloftheconversationsuntilSebastianpluckedapenfromthepocketofmywhitecoatandstartedrewritingthepromptsonaccountofthemlackinganyconnectiontoreality.HetoldMilanahewasdoingherafavor.
Afterthesession,SebastianfollowedmearoundwhileIvisitedafewpatients.ThescowlIreceiveduponinformingthosepatientsthatDr.Stremmelwasobservingmeforhisskilldevelopmentwasworththetortureheinflicteduponmelater.
Itwasgoodtorture,thelikesofwhichI’donlyheardaboutfromclickbaitheadlinesandthenoisescomingfromAlexandRiley’sapartment.Itwasreallygoodtorture.
Wedidn’ttalkaboutit.Wedidn’teventalkwhenitwasover.Hetoremetoshredsandthenputmetobedwithaglassofwaterandagrowlywarningtolockthedoor,andthatwasourroutine.Hedidn’tstayandIdidn’toffer.Therewasnocuddling,nokissesgoodnight,nopromisestotextlater,notevenashudderinglaughandsomewow,Ididn’tknowmybodycoulddothat
Weneverventuredintothewatersofwhatthefuckarewedoingorwhycan’twestop?
Thatwassafer,whichonlyspoketotheunbelievabledangerofthesituationwe’dchosenforourselves.Itwasboundtoblowuponusatanymomentanditwasgoingtohurtlikehellwhenitdid.Itwasgoingtoleavemarks.
Myperfectionistdesperately,urgentlyneededmetostopdoingthingsthatmademycareer,myreputation,myentirelifemessier.Ididn’tpayattentiontoheroften,butwhenIdid,shewasthisclosetolosingit.Iwasreallytestingher.
MybitchstoodstoicagainstthechaosandkeptinsistingIwasallowedtofeelgoodandIdidn’tneedtobuildafirewallofdistanceanddenialtoprotectmyselffromthat.Isureasshitdidn’tneedtoapologizeforit.Mostofall,Ididn’thavetorunawayfromit.
Iwantedtobelieveher.
***
Thenextsessionwasanespeciallyspicyonewherewewerebeentaskedwithbuildingabridgeusingmarshmallowsandpipecleaners.We’dspentthemajorityofthetimearguingaboutengineeringandthelastfewminutesactuallybuildingthethingwhileSebastiantreatedustoachorusof,“Thisisawasteofmarshmallows.It’sadamnwaste.”
Onceweweredismissed,he’dtuckedhisfingersintomywaistbandandsteeredmeoutofthehospital,upthestreet,intoourbuilding.Thepressofhisknucklesagainstmyflankdidwildthingstome.Itmademeforgetmyself,forgeteverything.He’dfuckedmeslowthatevening,soslow,likewehadallthetimeintheworld.Liketherewasn’tacliffcomingforus,anendwhetherweacceptedtheinevitabilityornot.
Muchliketheperfectionistandthebitchwhosharedahostileexistenceinmyhead,myfeelingsforSebastianStremmelwerecontradictory,onenevermorethanaminuteawayfromdeclaringwarontheother.Partofmedespisedhiminthestickiest,mostunbearableway.Theotherpartofme…thatpartdidnotdespisehim.
Andasthesedaysandweekspassed,itwasbecomingclearthatthosepartswereunequal.Unbalanced.Onesidewasmuch,muchgreaterthantheother,eveniftheydidexistonthebrinkoftotalannihilation.ThereweremomentswhenIstruggledtobelievethattheothersideexistedatall.Ihadtosearchforit,pressitliketheechoofabruisetodredgeupthelasttwingesofpain.
Iknewhisscowlsnow.Icoulddecodethemwithasingleglance.Iknewwhenhewastired,stressed,annoyed.IknewwhenhewasirritableabouthiscasesratherthanirritableoverthewaningNovembersunlight.
Ialsoknewthatthescowlwashisdrawbridge,themechanismhe’dperfectedforkeepingeveryoneatanarm’slength.Inmostcases,he’dsucceededindoingthat.I’dbeenoneofthosesuccessstories.I’dwrittenhimoff,filedhimawayasarrogantandunpleasantandtooself-involvedtobotheracknowledgingmeinthehalls.
IknewIwaswrong.Iknewthathiswordlessnodsandchinjerkswerehisgreetingsandthathewasdreadfulatsmalltalk.IknewIdidnotdespisehimasmuchasIwantedtobelieve.
Hestareddownatmebeforeheleftthatnight,hisscowlfreshandunguarded,andtherewasasecondwhereitseemedlikehewantedtosaysomethingmore.Instead,hepointedameaningfulglanceatthewaterhe’dpouredformeandremindedmetolockthedoorbehindhim.
Iwasn’tevensureIwantedtodespisehimanymore.
***
ThesunwasbrightinablindingwaythatonlyseemedtooccuroncoolmorningsinNovember.Thesedaysmademefeelelectricandalive,likeIcouldjuicethesunstraightintomyveins.
Ilikedthesekindsofdays—exceptwhenIfoundmyselfconscriptedintoyetanotherweekendhomeworkassignment.
Perhapsitwasn’tthesunblindingmethismorningsomuchasSebastian’sneonorangebubblesuit.Icouldhearhimscowlingclearacrosstheoutdoorjoustingringastheinstructorsecuredhimintothesuitwhichresembledamassiveballofbubblewrap.
Ihadtoturnawaybecausehelookedlikesomekindofcitrus-themedmascot,atangerinestuckwitharms,legs,andmurderinmind.
“Shutup,Shap,”hecalled.
“Ididn’tsayanything,”Iyelledback.
“Youaredoubledoverlaughing,”hesaidflatly.“Assoonasyou’resuitedup,you’redead.”
“Well,now,folks,”theinstructorsaid.“Weliketothinkofbubblesuitjoustingasanopportunityforfriendlycompetition,not—”
“You’regoingdown,Florida,”IcalledtoSebastian.“Andyou’renotgettingbackup.”
“Bigwordsfromalittlebit,”heshouted.
TheinstructorhelpedmeintoacobaltbluesuitasSebastianpacedtheperimeterofthesparringring.“Beingclosertothegroundisanadvantage,”Isaid.
Heshookhisheadashemutteredtohimself.Itwasunacceptablyfunnytoseesuchatall,powerfulmantrappedinsideanorangebubble,hisarmsskeweredstraightandhisstepsunsteady.Eventhehelmetwashilarious,andfornospecificreasonotherthanhelookedsounlikehisusualself.“We’lltestthattheory,”heshotback.
OnceIwasbuttonedup,theinstructor,atwentysomethingguywithlong,curlyhairtrailingdownfromunderabeanie,who’dintroducedhimselfasPaxton,setapairofoversizedfoamjoustinglancesinthecenterofthesquarering.“Okay,folks.Let’sreviewtherules.”
“Fucktherules,”Isaid.
“Norules,”Sebastianagreed.
“Iknowthisisexciting,”Paxtonsaid,awarninghandraised,“butwedohavesafetyprotocolsand—”
“IfIkillhim,I’llcleanupaftermyself,”Isaid.
“Therewillbedamages,”Sebastiansaid.“Chargemewhateverisnecessary.”
Paxtonglancedbetweenus,hisjawslack.“Well,let’swaitasecond.Wedon’twantanyonegettinghurt—”
Sebastiangrabbedthelance.“EvenifIcouldhurtherwiththis,Iknowhowtoputherbacktogether.”
DespitePaxton’sincreasingconcern,Ishuffleduptomylanceandtookitinhand.“Hewon’tadmititbutIknowhowtoputhimbacktogethertoo.”IwaggedthelanceatSebastian.“Surgeons.MassGeneral.Wecan’thurteachotheranymoreherethanwehurteachotherwithoutthesticks.”
Thoughthisdidn’tappeasePaxton,itwasalltheinvitationSebastianneededtowailmeinthebubblebellyandsendmeflounderingbackward.ItwasnotagreatmomentasfarasmybattlestrategywentbutIwaslaughinglikeI’dneverlaughedbefore.
Fromtheothersideoftheropes,Paxtoncalled,“Youfolkssignedallthewaivers,right?”
Gettingupmeantrollingtomysideandclimbingtomyknees.Sebastianwastherewaitingforme,hislancepoisedtocrackovermyhead.ButtherewaspowerinbeingclosetothegroundandIusedallofthatleveragetotopplehimwithoneshovetothebottomcurveofhissuit,leavinghimsprawledandflailing.Anoverturnedturtlewiththetemperamentofabull.
WhileIscrambledformylance,Sebastianmanagedtoheavehimselfontohissideandgainhisfeet.HewastednotimeinwhackingmeagainbutIwaspreparedforit,mylegsbracedandmygriponthelancefirm.
“AcceptthatIamgoingtowin,”Iyelledashepoundedmyside.“Therewillbenovictoryforyou.”
“Idon’tneedvictory,”heshoutedovermylaughter.“Ijustneedtokickyourass.YoucanthrashmewhenI’mdone.”
“Heynow,folks,”Paxtoncalled,hishandsraisedasifhecouldstopusbywillalone.“Theobjectiveisn’t—”
“Theobjectiveistomakeherbegformercy,”Sebastianreplied.“I’llacceptnothingshortofcompleteandtotalsubmission.”
Iknockedhimupsidethehead.“You’lldieunfulfilled.”
“Trustme,I’mplanningonit.”
“Folks,”Paxtoncried.
“We’vegotthis,”Sebastiansaidtohim.Hesentmerollingendoverendandthengrabbedmyhandandyankedmetomyfeet.“Wedoworsethingstoeachotheratleastonceaweek.”
“Andwedon’twearhelmetswhenwe’redoingit,”Iadded.
Abandoningthelance,IplowedstraightintoSebastianandknockedhimoverlikeabowlingpin.
“Getbackhere,youevillittleblueberry!”
Bubblesuitsweren’tdesignedwithrunninginmindbutIwasabletopulloffaneffectivescurry.Scoreoneforshortgirls.
Sebastiandidnothavethesamesuccess.Hestumbledandbumbled.HechasedmefromonecorneroftheringtoanotherwhileIcackledandhiccuped.Ibouncedofftheropes.Hesomersaulted,thenrolledoncemore.Wetookupthelancesagainandbludgeonedeachotherwhileweshoutedandsworeandlaughedourselvestotears.Wedidn’tstopwhenPaxtonblewtheairhornthatsignaledtheendofourtimeinthering.ItwasonlywhenIlostmyholdonthelanceand,insteadofknockingSebastianoffhisfeet,Itookusbothdownandintotheropeslikeapairofskeweredcherrytomatoesthatwestopped.
EverythinginsidemewasblownwideopeninthemostvitalwayandIwantedtobottlethisfun,thissillyjoy,andpressitintothepalmsofpeoplewhocouldn’tgetoutoftheirheadsforaminute.Iwantedthemtoknowthatalltheterriblethingsthey’dendured,allthethingsthey’dinflicteduponthemselves,couldfeellikethetiniestpinprickofamemory.Iwantedthemtoknowwhatitwasliketogoflyingbackward,assoveranklesinabubblesuit,andlaughsohardtheirribsached.Iwantedthemtoknowitgotbetter.
Paxtonsteppedbetweenusthen.“Youtwoaremean,”hemutteredashefreedmefromthesuit.“I’malittleconcernedaboutit.”
“Notthefirsttimewe’veheardthat,”Sebastiansaid.Hewatchedmeflopdowntothematfromhisoverturnedturtleposition.
Iwasdrenchedinsweatandbreathinghard.Myhairwasawreckfromthehelmetbutalsobecauseitwasalwayswrecked.Myleggingswereupmyassyetalsofallingdown.Oneboobwasachievingaboveandbeyondthebracup.Ismiledupatthesky.Everythingfeltamazing.
“Nothingtoworryaboutwithus,”ItoldPaxton.“We’reasrightasholesintheozone.”
PaxtonyankedthebubblesuitoffSebastianandgaveusawearyshakeofhishead.“Haveyoutriedtherapy?”
“Yeah,”Sebastiansaid,joiningmeincollapsingonthemat.“Therapistsentushere.”
“Well,shit.”Paxtonhookedanarmthrougheachsuitandtrudgedoff,theairhornhangingoutofthebackpocketofhisjeans.
Sebastianreachedover,hispalmlandinginmyhair,hisfingerssplayedovermyforehead.“You’reatinytornado,”hepanted.“Youleveledme.”
“ToldyouIwould.”
“Consistent,”hesaidhoarsely.“You’resofuckingconsistent.”
“Ifyou’retryingtocomplimentme,youshouldtryharder.”
Herolled,cagedmewithhishandsoneithersideofmyshoulders,akneebetweenmylegs.“Howharddoyouwantmetotry?”
Iliftedahandtoshieldmyeyesfromthesun.Thelong-sleevedblackt-shirtfithiminamannerIcouldonlydescribeasinappropriate.EvenifIdidn’tknowwhatI’dfindunderthestretchycotton,thisshirtleftnomysteries.Noimaginationrequired.
Itwastoobrightouthere.Toowarm.
“Dependsonwhatyou’reexpectingtoget,”Ireplied.
Heshiftedtositonhisheels,mylegstilltrappedbetweenbothofhis.Reachingback,hegrabbedmyfreeankle.“ThelastthingIeverdoisexpect.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”
Heshookhisheadashebentmyleg,mykneetomytorso,beforeheproppedmysneakeronhisbelly.ItwastheprimepositiontoknockhimonhisassbutwebothknewIwasn’tgoingtodothat.
“Itmeansthere’snopointinexpectinganything.”Hepressedhisthumbstothebackofmycalf,rubbedhiswaytomyankle.“Expectationsjustfuckyouup.”
“Anythingcanfuckyouup.Believeme,Icouldwriteabookonallthelittlethingsthatcanfuckyouup.”
“Andyoucouldprobablydistillthatbookdowntoasingleword.Expectations.Eitheryouexpectedmoreoryouexpectedless,andwhicheverwayitwent,itfuckedyouup.”
Iwatchedhimashehikedmyfoottohisshoulder,thesuncirclinghiminahaloofblazingheatthatseemedtobounceofftheblack-cladmountainrangeofhisshouldersandthedarkcloudofhishair.
“Idon’tlikethat,”Isaid.
Heshrugged,draggedhislipstomyankle.
“Youshouldexpectthings,”Icontinued.
Hestareddownatme,hislipsstillfixedtomyskin.“Why?”
“Because—”Islappedmyhandstothemat.“Youshould.”
Henarrowedhiseyes.“Whatwouldyouhavemeexpect?”Ididn’thaveananswerforthat.Whenmyonlyresponsecameintheformofsomefast,frustratedblinking,hewenton.“Whatwouldyoulikemetoexpectfromyou?”
Hepressedhisteethtomyankle.Hisbeardtickledenoughtosendatwitchdownmyleg.Hetightenedhisholdandeverything,everythinginsidemepulsedwithneed.
“Idon’tknow.”
Aripplepassedthroughhisbrows,somethinggrumpytohidehisdisappointment.Yettherewasnohidingthathewasdisappointed.I’dsaidthewrongthingthoughtherightthingwasamysterybakedintothistwistedmessofmutualresentmentandhatesex.
Musclememoryinstructedmetosmooththisover,toeasethedisappointment.“You’rehuggingmyleg.”
Heranhishandfrommyankletothehingeofmyhip,squeezingthethickofmythighonhiswaybackdown.“It’saniceleg.”
“Nice?”
“Don’tgofishing,Shap.It’snotagoodlook.”Hescrapedhisbeardalongtheflashofskinexposedbetweenmyleggingsandsneakers.“MaybethisguyErinhaslinedupforyouwon’tmindsuchobviousrequestsforflatterybutIdo.”
Ipressedmyheeltohischest.“Whydoyouhavetodothat?”
“What?Ijustassumedyouwerelookingforwardtomeetinghimtonight.”Hisbrowsclimbedagain.“ErinAcevedoknowshershit.Ibetthisguyisaperfectmatchforyou,godhelphim.Bymyestimation,he’spartiallytofullydeaftohandleallyourscreeching,hasasky-hightoleranceforambiguityonaccountofallthenaturaldisastersyoucreate,averysolidsenseofselftobalanceoutyouneedingtoberightallthefuckingtime,thickskinbecauseyouinsultpeoplewithoutanyregardfortheirfeelings,andthepalateofaveryboringchild.”
Iglaredathim.Ihadn’tthoughtaboutthatpartyallweek,mostlyasameansofkeepingmyselffromobsessingoverit.Aswasmytradition,theobsessionwaslocalizedtohowI’dnavigatethefoodandbeveragesituation.I’dignoredallpartsofthisallegedfix-up.“Mmhmm.Sure.Thatchecksout.”
“Don’tpretendyoudon’thaveitallgamedout.”
Ipushedagainsthischest.“Gamedout?”
“Yeah,Imean,Iknowyou,Shap.Youhaveaplanofattacklinedup.You’regoingtoshowhimyournon-sociopathic,non-feralside.Pretendyoudon’tripoffheadsjusttoremindeveryoneyoucan.Beforeyouknowit,you’llhavehimlulledintosomenice,hollowcomplacency.Thestorywritesitself.You’llhavematchinggoldbandsandapairofsemi-sociopathicchildren.Thenyoucantearhisgutsrightoutofhisbellyandhewon’tevenseeitcoming.Horroreverafter.Justwhatyou’vealwayswanted.”
Istompedmyfootagainsthissternumandsenthimsprawlingbackward.“Youdon’tknowme,”Isaid,scramblingtomyfeet.“Whateverthefuckyouthinkyouknow—you’rewrong.You’rereallyfuckingwrong.”
Herockedtohisknees.“Whatjusthappened?”
Ibackedup,crossedmyarmsovermytorso.Hisexpressionwasflat,almostconfused.Thatmadenosenseconsideringhe’dobviouslyspentsometimethinkingaboutthosecomments.“Oh,Idon’tknow.HowaboutyoutellingmehowIintendtotrapsomeguyandhowthat’smygrandplanorsomething?Wheredoyougetoffsayingthesethingstome?Really,Stremmel,wherethefuckdidyougettheright?”
“TellmeI’mwrong,”hesaid,stillonhisknees.“Tellmeyou’renothuntingforahusbandandsomekidsyou’llhandofftoanannybecauseyou’dsoonerdiethancutyouron-callhours.”
Itookanotherstepandfelttheropesatmyback.“I’vegivenyoumorethanenough.I’mfinished.”
IclimbedovertheropesandwalkedawayasSebastiancalled,“Wouldyoujustcalmthehelldown?Getbackhere,Shap.”
Iwaswrong.Thetorturewasn’tworthit.
AndIstilldespisedhim.Quitethoroughly.CHAPTER19SEBASTIAN
MalakaiFordwasthekindofguywhoworejeansandabutton-downshirtwithapinstripedsuitvestandtietoaSaturdaynighttacopartyandthatwasallyouneededtoknowabouthim.Atietoatacoparty.Forshame.
Everyoneelsewantedtoknowabouthisworkinforensicclimatologyandhowlonghe’dbevisitingfromEnglandandwhetherhewasenjoyingithereinBostonbutIdidnotgiveasinglefuckaboutanyofthat.Ididn’twanttohearabouthisresearchorhisendlessstruggletofindadecentcupofteainthistown.HisobservationsaboutthepublictransitsystemcouldgofuckhismotherforallIcared.
Forthefortiethtimethisevening,IshotErinaside-eyeglare.Inresponse,shepriedthehalf-emptybeerbottlefrommycross-armedclutchandreplaceditwithafreshone.“Lightenup,”sheorderedunderherbreath.
“Icouldn’tifItried,”Isaid.“Youknowthat.”
“Someday,”shestartedasshebuzzedaroundme,“youwillexplainthisbehaviortome.Untilthen,Iwillprayyoudon’tactuallyseveranyheadswiththatglare.ThiscrewwouldhavealotoffuntryingtoreattachthatheadbutIdrawthelineatsuturesinmykitchen.Full-onsurgeryisahilltoofar,youknow?”
Inspiteofmyself,Isnortedoutalaugh.Erinwasright—thisgroupofsurgeonswouldmakeshifttheshitoutofthiskitchen.IglancedatAlexandNick.Theyweredebatingthemeritsofanewroboticsurgicaltoolassheexpertlyopenedandpittedoneavocadoafteranotherandhemashedthem.O’RourkewastellingtwoofNick’sneuroresidentsaboutacasehesawlastweekinvolvinganoff-roadvehiclecrash.Youcouldtakethesurgeonsoutoftheoperatingroombutyoucouldn’ttaketheORtalkoutofthesurgeons.
ExceptSara,apparently.
ShestoodontheoppositeendofthekitchenbetweenAlex’shusbandRileyWalsh—whohappenedtobeErin’sbrother—andthatfoolinthevest.I’dmissedtheintroductionsbecauseIwaslateingettinghere—andI’dbeenrunninglatebecauseIdidn’twanttocome—butitwasobviousSarawasputtingsomeeffortintogettingtoknowthisguy.
Mylifecouldgofuckitselfrighttohell.
Notforthefirsttime,Iwasresponsibleformyowntragedies.I’dlostmyfuckingmindwithSarathismorning.Icouldn’texplainit.AllIknewwasI’dopenedadoorandinvitedhertowalkthroughit.Insteadofdoingthat,sheslammeditinmyface.SeeingasIwasmyownworstenemy,I’dopenedanotherdoorandthenanother—andinsteadofhertravelingfromheretotherewithme,sheboltedthemshut.
I’drespondedtothatintheonlyreasonablefashionandactedlikeafuckingtool.I’dcrossedatleasteightystupidlinesandthenprettymuchdemandedshestabmewithmyownscalpels.I’ddeservedtobekickedinthechest.Itwasfine.Itwascool.IsurvivedalltheothershitIinflicteduponmyselfsoI’dsurvivethistoo.
ThatleftmetodotheonlythingIknewhowtodo:parkmyselfinacornerandglareattheassholerunninghisAgameonSarafromacrosstheroom.ThatIhadabeerinmyhandwasanaddedbenefit.AndthefoodErinkeptleavinginmyvicinityhelpedtoobuttherewasnothingshakingmefromthisspotuntilIcouldfigureouthowtokillthisguywithoutincitinganinternationalincident.
“Hey,I’mwonderingsomething,”O’Rourkecalled,hisbeerbottleheldaloft.“ThiskeptmeuplastnightandIneeditsettledtonightsoIcansleep.”
“Youwereoncalllastnight,”Isaid.“Thatkeptyouup.”
“WasIoncall?Yes.WasIamusingmyselfwithstupidideasinsteadofansweringpagesthefirstandsecondtimes?Alsoyes,”hesaid.“Backtothetopicathand.Veryserious.Ineedthebestmindsintheroomonthissoyoutwo”—hepointedhisbottleattheneuroresidents—”justsitdownandbequiet.I’msorrybutyouwon’tbereadyforthisconversationuntilafteryourthirdyears.You’renotthereyet.It’syou,it’snotme.Anyway.”Heheldhisarmsoutwide.“Whichsurgicalspecialtycouldyoutakeinafighttothedeath?”
Nickbarkedoutalaugh.“Whyisthisaquestion,O’Rourke?”
“Justlikeneurotoansweraquestionwithanotherquestion,”hesaid.“Weallknowyou’reusingthistimetosourceyourstrategy.”
“Whyarewefightinganyonetothedeath?”Alexasked.“Whynotjustfightthemuntilthey’redownforthecount?Idon’tneedtokillanyonebutIwouldliketodominatethem.”
“That’sright,”Rileymurmuredtoher.“That’sexactlyright,honeybee.”
“You’redoingitwrong,”O’Rourkesaid.“You’realldoingitwrong.You’resupposedtothinkabouttheotherspecialtiesandthenexplainwhyyou’dbeabletokickanesthesia’sassanydayoftheweek.”
“No,no,no,”Nicksaid.“Anesthesiakeepsparalyticsintheirpocket.Alltheyneedtodoisthrowonesyringeandit’slightsout.”
“Icouldtakecardio,”Alexsaid.“Butdon’ttellHartshornIsaidthat.It’llhurthisfeelings.”
“Itwouldhurthisfeelingsbuthe’dagreewithyou,”Isaid.“Thenhe’dsayhecouldtakenephrologywithbothhandstiedbehindhisback.”
“He’dsaythatandhe’dstartaholywar,”Alexreplied,busytakingaparingknifetoatleastamillionsmalllimes.
“IfigureIcouldthrowdownwithortho,”O’Rourkeadded.
“Dude,theyhavesaws.Theybreakbones,”Nicksaid,movingonfromtheavocadostosqueezethelimesintoapitcher.
“AndtheydrillsodeepintotheirownspecialtythatanankleguywouldhaveonetrickinhisbagandwouldbehelplesswhenIthrewanelbow,”O’Rourkereplied.“They’reonlyspecificallyintimidating,notbroadly.”
“Whatyou’resayingisyoucouldtakeoneveryspecialty?”Saraaskedhim.“Isthatafeatureamongtraumasurgeonsoradefect?”
BeforeIcouldstopmyself,Isaid,“Adefect,forsure.”
Imethergazefromtheothersideoftheroomandhelditwhiletheconversationcontinuedaroundus.Itightenedmygriponthebeerbottleandsilentlydaredhertolookawayfirst.Shewould.She’dblinkdownatherdrinkorthemanshewaspolitelyignoringoroverattheinfantryoflimesortoO’Rourkeandthemaskofapathyheworesoflamboyantly.She’denditlikeshealwaysdid.
“Prettysureplasticswouldbeaneasyhit,”Isaid.
Andthatdidit.Sherolledhereyes,muttered“Asshole”underherbreath,andshiftedjustenoughtopivotherattentiontowardO’Rourke.
“Yeah,that’sobvious,”O’Rourkeagreed.“Plastics,uro,neuro—”
“Waitafuckingsecond,”Nicksnapped.“Youarenotseedingneurowithurology.Notwhileyou’redrinkingmybeer.”
O’Rourkeglancedatthebottleinhishand.“DidIsayneuro?Imeantnephrology.Totallynephrology.DidImentionIwasoncalllastnight?AndIhaven’tsleptsinceIwastwenty-three?”Heglancedattheresidents.“Thisiswhyyoucan’tplaythegame.Youneedtoreachandexceedthislevelofdeprivation.Youneedtobebroken.Thenandonlythenwillyoubereadytoplaythegameofsurgicalspecialtyfireball.”
“Fireball?”Alexrepeated.“Wheredidthefirecomefrom?”
“Andtheballs,”Rileyadded.
“Soundedcool,”O’Rourkesaidwithashrug.“I’llworkshopitsomemorethisweek.”
“Ahhh.Dr.Hartshorn,rightontimeasusual,”NickcalledasthecardiothoracicsurgeonsteppedthroughthebackdoorwithhiswifeStellaintow.“WhatcanIgetyoutwotodrink?”
HartshornwasgoodenoughtogiveabashfulsmileasheandStellajoinedthegroupinthekitchen.
StellagesturedtothepitcherNickwasmixing.“Iseeabottleoftequilaandawholebunchoflimes.Whateverthat’sabout,itlooksgood.”
“ThatlookslikeI’llbeonthefloortomorrowmorning,”Hartshornreplied,shootingagrinatErin.“I’llhavewhatevertheverytolerantandverykindDr.Acevedoishaving.”
Erin,thevolcanologistwithapairofdoctoratestohername,liftedherbeerbottle,saying,“Comingrightup—butit’sWalshwhenI’mDoctor.”
“HowdidInotknowthat?”Hartshornasked.
“Becauseyou’realwayslatetotheparty,”Nickmuttered.
“Walshearnedthedoctorates,”shereplied,handinghimthebeer.“I’mAcevedooneveningsandweekends.”
“Unlessshe’sonavolcanothatweekend,”Nickaddedashesqueezedanotherlimeintothepitcher.“Allbetsareoffwhenshe’sonavolcano.”
“Nowthat’sanactualfireball,”O’Rourkemuttered.
“I’mwithyouonthemaidenname,”StellasaidtoErin.“StellaAllesandrobuiltareputationinsportspublicityandcommunications.StellaHartshornissomeoneelseentirely.”
“Oh,forsure,”addedAlex.“Dr.Emmerlingsurvivedabrutal,soul-crushingresidencyandthenabeast-modefellowship.Iwon’tcareifmykids’teachersorfriendscallmeMrs.WalshbutIsureashellwon’teraseDr.Emmerlingbecauseheputaringonit.”
“ButIdidn’tputaringonit,”Rileymurmured.“Youdidn’twantaring.Doyouwantaring?I’llgetyouaring.”
“That’snotthepointofthisconvo,babe,”shereplied.
Fornorationalreasonwhatsoever,mygazedriftedtoSara.SheglancedbetweenErinandStellaastheygroanedovertheobstaclesthey’dfaceiftheyeverchangedtheirnamesprofessionally.Herfeatureswerestiffandfixed,likeshewasworkingveryhardatpresentingherbestideaofaneutralexpression.
Worstofall,shelookedhotenoughtostartfireswithherfingertips.Herjeansfunctionedasaviciousreminderofexactlyhowthickandperfectherthighswere,andthepalegraysweatersheworeonlyfurtheredthetorment.Iwantedtorunmypalmoverthewool-coveredcontoursofherbody,andIwantedtobealittlecruelaboutit.Iwantedtocurlafingerthroughoneofthosebeltloopsanddraghertome.Wantedtopinchandtwistthosenipplesuntilhereyeswatered.WantedherhairwrappedaroundmyfistandthehelplesscrythatalwayscamewhensheknewIhadher.
Ialwayshadher,atleastforthoserare,secretminuteswesharedbeforeoneofusfuckeditup.
Withastifledgroan,Irolledmyeyesatmyself.Iwassuchafuckingmorontostandherethinkingaboutthiswoman.Itdidn’tmatterwhathappenedwhenwewerealonebecauseitneverlasted.Itwasonemistakeafteranother.ThevisitingprofessorcouldpullherhairandtwisthernipsforallIcared.Hecouldbemyfuckingguest.Hopehelikedcroutonsandceaselessshrieking.
Isetmybeerdownonthecountertopandheadedforthedoorsleadingtothebackyard.BeckoningtoO’Rourke,Isaid,“Comeon.There’sabasketballhoopoutback.”
“Doesthismeanyou’vedecidedtoteachmetoday?”heasked.
Thiskidwassuchandouche.Ilikedittoomuch.“Ifyou’relucky.”
***
Hartshornwantedtotalkbloodclotprotocolswhileweateandthatwasafineintroductiontothemanandhismind.Ontheupsideofthis,Iwastoobusyarguingwithhimovertherealityoftreatingcriticalcarecasesasopposedtohisfantasiesoftraumasurgerytoadequatelyglareatthevisitingprofessor.
HewasseateddiagonallyacrossfromSarabutitwasfartooloudatthistableforthemtocarryonanintimateconversationwiththatmuchdistancebetweenthem.Still,Iwantedtothrowaforkattheguyeverytimehegaveheranotherawshuckslaugh-shrug.Didhenotrealizeshewouldeathissoul?Didn’theseethatevilinthosebighazeleyesorthehell-brandedfuryinthatsweetlittlemouth?She’dverballycastratehiminfoursecondsflatandshe’dmakehimthankherforit.Hewasblindifhedidn’tseethis.Thewomanwaslethalandhedidnothavethestonestorollwithher.
InoddedtoHartshorn—whowasstillonaboutclots—andgnawedachunkoficeasIshotaglancedownthetableattheprofessor.Thispoorbastarddidn’tknowwhatwasgoodforhim.AsforSara,well,shehadtoknowthiswasadisasterinthemaking.Thisguywasnotonherlevel.Maybeshe’dhavefunbrutalizinghimforabitbuthe’dserveasnothingmorethanasnacktoher.Shehadtoknowhe’dneversatisfyher.He’dneverknowherorwhatsheneeded.
“So,youcanseewhythisisaprioritytome,”Hartshornsaid,nudgingmyarmwithhiselbow.“Anditwouldbegreatifyoucould—”
“WherethehelldidShapgo?”
Hartshornscannedthetablewithafrown.“Idon’tknow.Issheoncallthisweekend?”
“No.”Iglaredattheprofessoragain.Asnarlrattledinmythroat.Thiswashisfault.Ididn’tknowwhatthiswasbutitwashisfault.“She’snot.”
“Bathroom,maybe,”Hartshornsaid.“Anyway.Icouldreallyuseyoursupportonthisprotocol—”
“Holdthatthought,”Isaid,reachingforthevibratingphoneinmypocket.“We’llcatchuponthislater.Okay?”
AweirdsplashofsurprisehitmewhenIrealizeditwasahospitalnumberandnotSaracallingme.Butthatwasdumb.Whywouldshecallme?Shewouldn’t.Thatwasn’tsomethingshedid,andshedefinitelywouldn’tdoitfromsomewhereinAcevedo’shouse.Shedidn’twant—No.Iwasn’tgoingtoentertainanyofthatbullshit.Weweren’tgoingto—well,weonlydidthatonThursdaynights.
SinceIwassurroundedbysurgeons—Iwasignoringtheexistenceofthevisitingprofessoronprinciple—andtheirsignificantothers,nooneneededanexplanationwhenIpushedawayfromthetablewithafingerpointedtomyphoneinexplanation.Iwandereddownthehallwaytothefrontofthehouse,tappingmyscreentoacceptthecallassoonasthegroup’snoisewasbehindme.
“ThisisDr.Stremmel,”Isaidautomatically.
Thetypicalrapid-firejumbleofpatientdatacameacrossthelineinamannerexclusivetointerns.Iwasmoresurprisedwhentheyknewhowtoreportcorrectlyatthispointintheirrotations.Inoddedtomyselfwhilementallyreorganizingbutmyfocus—notthatI’dadmitittoanyone—wasfindingSara.Thisplacewasthreefloorsofold-as-hellhouseandIknewtherewereloadsofstrangelittleroomsandhiddenclosets.Shecouldbeanywhere.
Butshewasn’t.Shehadashoulderleanedagainstthewallinashadowedcornerofthefrontentryway,herbacktomeandherheadbowed.Itseemedlikeshewasreadingsomethingonherphone.Istaredatherforamoment,willinghertoturnaroundoracknowledgethatsheknewIwasrighthere
Whenshedidn’tmove,Imademywayintothelivingroomastheinternsaid,“Okay.That’severything,Ithink.”
Hewasbreathlessandhisreportwasafuckingmess—wasn’tevensureIcouldfindtheprimarycomplaint—andIwould’vemadeateachablemomentofthisifIwasn’tstupidlypreoccupiedwithpacingpastthedoortoglanceatSaraagain.Iwantedherattentionforaminute,justoneminute,soIcouldcomplainaboutthevisitingprofessorandannoyheruntilshewantedtobothscratchmyskinoffandgetfuckedupagainstawall.
Justoneminute.
“That’splenty.”IcompletedanothercircuitofthelivingroomintimetowatchSara’sshouldersriseandthenfall,likeshewasblowingoutadeepbreath.“Dr.Tavareswillappreciatethislevelofdetailwhenyoupageher,seeingasshe’syouron-callresidenttonightandshouldbeinthebuildingsomewhere.”
Iheardsomethingthatresembledahandslappingaforeheadfollowedby“Shiiiiiit.”
“Ithappens.”Iglancedaroundtheroomtokeepfromstompingbackoutintothehall.Therewerebookseverywhere,photostoo,andlotsoflittlethingsthatseemedappropriateinthehomeofageologistandaneurosurgeon,likeseveraldog-earedcopiesofScienceonthesofaandacrystaldishfilledwithuglyrocks.ItwasallIcoulddotokeepfromputtingmyselfinfrontofSarajusttobotherher.Ireallylovedbotheringher.Couldn’tstandtheideaofanyoneelsebeingonthereceivingendofherwitheringglares.Definitelynotthatfuckingprofessor.
“Thankyou,Dr.Stremmel,”theinternsaid.“Sosorrytobotheryou.Haveagoodnight.”
“Holdup.”Onceagain,IcaughtSarablowingoutanotherbreath.Whatthefuckwasthisallabout?Istoppednearthedoor,closeenoughtowatchheryetfarenoughtomakeitseemlikeIwasn’t.“GetyourreportprioritizedbeforeyoupageTavares.Communicatetheprimarycomplaint,thengetintocomorbiditiesandhistoryifrelevant.”
Iheardnotebookpagesflippingandanother“Shiiiiiit”beforehesaid,“Right,right.Thanksagain,Dr.Stremmel.”
Withthatissueresolved,Islippedmyphoneintomybackpocketandheadedforthehallway.SarawasexactlywhereI’dlefther,thatoneshoulderpressedtothewalllikeshewasholdingupthehouse,phoneinhand,andherbacktome.Itwasclassicleavemethehellalone
“Ifyou’replayingaroundofhide-and-seekwiththeprofessor,thefactyou’restillwaitingheredoesn’tbodewellforyourG-spot.”
“Forfuck’ssake,Stremmel,”shesaid.“Wouldyoushutup?Andgoawaywhileyou’reatit.”
“Don’ttellmeyou’dratherhavetheprofessor,”IsaidasIapproached.“Comeon,Shap.Let’snotpretendyouwantanotherminutewiththatguy.”
“Seriously.Shutup.”
AsIcametoastopinfrontofher,Irealizedshewasn’tonherphone.Herhandwasflatonherabdomenandhereyesclosed.Therewasafinemistofsweatonherbrowandherfacewaspale.Somethingwasn’tright.“What’sgoingonhere?What’sthisallabout?”
“It’snothing,”shesaidwithaslightshakeofherhead.
Shewasbreathingalittletooquickformetobelievethat.Ipluckedherhandfromherbelly,findingherpulsewithmyfingertip.“Whydon’tyouhaveasmartwatchliketherestofus?YouthinkIliketakingvitalstheanalogway?Fuckno.GivemeaheartratereadingforeveryminuteofthedayandanECGwhilewe’reatit.Yougottagetinthegamehere,Shap.”
“Thosethingsmakemetwitchy,”shesaidunderherbreath.
InoddedasIloosenedthestraponmywatch.“Thenwe’llonlykeepitonforaminute.”
“Don’tdoctorme,Stremmel.”
“Thendoabetterjobofdisappearingthenexttimeyouwanttobealone.You’restuckwithmenow.”Iheldherwristinonehand,nowsportingmywatch,andmovedtwofingerstothearterialpulseinherneck.Itwasn’tactuallynecessary—noneofthiswasnecessary—butIwasn’twalkingaway.I’dcomeheretobotherherafterallandIintendedtodothat.Ishiftedmypalmtoherjawandranmythumbacrosshercoolcheek.“Lookatthis,”Isaid,holdingherwristuptoview.“Whatisthisallabout?ThisheartrateisfarmoreelevatedthanI’dliketoseefromyouwhenyourclothesareon.Explaintomewhyyou’reindistressorexpectmetousemyownmethodstofigureitout.”
Shestartedtoshakeherheadbutwhateverwashappeningbehindhereyeswasstrongerthanherdesiretotellmetofuckoff.“I’moutherebecauseI’mtryingtogetitundercontrol.IfIgointhere”—shemotionedthebathroomaroundthecorner—”thenauseawillwin.Idon’twantthattohappen.”
“What’scausingthenausea?WhatamIworkingwithhere?”Iprompted.Ihadn’tnoticedwhatshe’deatenbutIknewshe’dskippedthemargaritasbecauseNickhadaskedherthreetimesifhe’dwantedone.She’dlookedreadytoriphisearsoffthesecondtimeheaskedandIwasjustsurprisedhewasstillalivefollowingthethird.
SheblewabreaththroughhermouthandIsawitthesecondshegaveupthefight.“Mybodyisverywelltrained.Itdoesn’tevenhavetobeaskedtovomitafteramealanymore.Afteralltheseyears,itknowswhattodo.”
IblinkedbetweenSara’screasedbrowandthereadoutonthewatchface.IneededthatminutetorealigneverythingIknewabouther.
“Snackslikecroutonsandtrailmixarenoproblem,butlong,socialmealsscrewmeeverytime,”shecontinued.“EitherIeattoomuchorIeattoofast.OrIallowmyselftogettoohungryandmystomachisalreadyagitatedwhenIdoeat.Ornoneofthosethingshappenandmybodyjusttapsintodecadesofmusclememorythatremembersweneverkeepmealsdown.”
Sheblinkedupatmenow,hereyeswideanddefiant.Insteadofbeingthepainintheasssheexpectedmetobe,Igaveheraquicknod,saying,“Focusonyourbreathing.”
“WhatdoesitlooklikeI’mdoing?”
Ishiftedmyhandawayfromherjawandoverhershoulder,downherarm.Itracedmythumbalongthewellofherpalm.“Doasyou’retold.Justthisonetime.Okay?”
Therewasabeatwhereitseemedlikeshewasgoingtofightmebecausetherewasnootherwaywithus—itwasalwaysafight,evenwhenitwasfucking—butthensheclosedhereyesagain.Withhershouldersshovedback,shedrewabreaththroughhernosewhileshetappedoutafivecountonmywrist.Sheblewitout,touchingherfingertipstomywristeighttimes.
“Good.Twomore.Deeperthistime.Getoutofyourshouldersandintoyourdiaphragm.”
“Don’tmansplainbreathingtome,Stremmel.”
“Thendoitcorrectly,Shap.”
Herbrowspitchedupassheinhaled,andthatwasfinebyme.Shecouldbeasannoyedasshewanted.I’dannoyhereverydayifitdistractedherfromstomachspasms.
Istrokedherpalmthroughanotherroundofdeepbreathing.Aftertwomore,shesaid,“Youdon’thavetostayhere.Icanusuallytalkmyselfthroughtheworstofit.That’swhyIcameouthere.”
“Andwhathappenswhenyoucan’ttalkyourselfthroughit?”
“Ihavemeds.”Sheliftedashoulder.“Youshouldgetbackinthere.They’regoingtowonderwhereyouwent.”
“Haveyouseentheemptytequilabottles?Nooneiswonderingwhereanyonewent.”Iglanceddownatthewatchface,pleasedtofindherheartworkingslightlylesshardthanithadbeen.“Who’stakingcareofyouforthis?”
“Itoldyounottodoctorme.”
IscowledatherasIloosenedthewatchfromaroundherwrist.“Answerthedamnquestion,Shap.”
“IhaveaneatingdisorderrecoveryspecialistinBaltimore.I’vebeenworkingwithherforaboutfiveyears.”
Onlyfiveyears,mygod.Thatwasn’tenough.Notnearlyenough.
“Andyourstomach?Who’slookingafterthat?EmmerlingknowsallthebestpeopleinGI.”
Shehuffedoutanaggravatedbreath.“Thanks,butI’mnotsharingmybulimia-inducedgastroparesisandirritablebowelwithanyofmycolleagues.DefinitelynottheonesIminglewithafter-hours.”Shedroppedhergazetothefloor.“NotsurewhyIshareditwithyou.”
Istaredatherasthesamequestionbouncedaroundmyhead.Shepressedherlipstogetherandthattinygestureloosenedsomethinginthemiddleofmychest,andIcouldn’tstopmyselffromwrappingmyarmsaroundherandholdinghertighttome.
Forasecondortwo,Sarastayedfrozeninplace,herhandshangingathersides.Thenshesoftenedagainstme,herarmslinkingloosearoundmywaistandherforeheadsettlingagainstmychest.
OfallthewaysI’devertouchedher,I’dnevertouchedherlikethis.Neverwithouttheintentionofstrippingherdown,takingeverythingsheoffered.Itwasstrange,thisfeeling.Icouldn’texplainitbutIcouldn’tlethergoeither.Ihadtodothis,Ihadtoholdher—evenifitwasawkwardanduncomfortable.
IfIhadtocategorizeit,I’dsaythiswaswhatapulmonaryembolismfeltlike.IwasreasonablyconfidentIwasn’texperiencinganembolismbuttherewassomethingthickanddeadlyandnewpulsingbehindmysternum.Therewasaquickkicktomyheartrateandmyheadfeltfuzzyasmychestcinchedagain,andIcouldn’tdecidewhetherI’dfeelbetterifIlethergoorheldhercloser.
“LetmeseeifIcanfindit.Givemejustaminutetolook—ohhhh.”Atonce,weswiveledinthedirectionofthehallandfoundErinblinkingatus.“Sure.Yep.Okay.”
“Noooo,”Sarareplied,jerkingawayfromme.“Oh,no.Notokay.Nothingisokay.Thereisnothing,actually.Thisisnot—it’snot.”Shestaredatme,hergazesharpenoughtosawbones.“Tell.Her.”
Icrossedmyarms.MaybeIreallydidhaveanembolismbecauseitfeltlikealltheairhadbeenknockedoutofme.MychestachedandeverymuscleclenchedwhenIsaid,“It’snothing.”
Erinswunganimpatientfrownbetweenus.“Youcould’vetoldme.Iwouldn’thavemeddledmyselfintoMalakai’sbusinessifIknewthiswashappening.And,ohmygod”—shebroughtherfingerstohertemples—”Idon’twantyoutohavetosneakaroundinmyhouse.Wehaveaverystrictno-sneakingpolicyhere.Youknowthat,Sebastian.”
SarahitmewithfixthisrightnowbeforeIfixyouintoabodybageyes.
Withagreat,doucheysnicker,Isaid,“Really,Walsh.There’snothingtotell.Nothingtoseehere.”IwavedadismissivehandatSaralikeIhadn’tsufferedaveryconfusingandverysomaticembolismatherhands.“Wewerejusttalking.”
“Itwasaprofessionalconversation,”Saraadded.
Erinbentaneyebrowup.“Youtwoarefunny.Thisisfunny.”
“Walsh,”Iwarned.
Sheglancedatme.“Ifyou’reinsistentonlying,liebetter.That’salltheadviceIhaveforyouthisevening.”
Ishovedmyhandsinmypocketsandtippedmyheaduptostudytheceiling.“Nothingtolieabout.”Theoldstaircasecurledandcrookedabove,andcompetingshaftsofmoonlightandstreetlightshoneinthroughthelandingwindows.IshiftedtofaceSara.Mycheststillached.“Isn’tthatright,Shap?”CHAPTER20SARA
Iwasusedtothis.
Iknewhowtosimultaneouslymanageahurgly-burglybellyandcomplexsurgicalprocedures,soIcouldhandleSebastianandErin,andeverythingelse.
Thiswasextremelymanageable.IfIhadtolistmyskillsinorderofproficiency,holdingittogetherandgettingthroughstressfultimeswithoutbreakingasweatoutrankedanythingIcoulddosurgically.Evenduringmedicalschoolandresidency,whenIwasatmysickestandmostbroken,Ilookedlikethemostconfident,controlledwomanintheworld.Maintainingcompleteself-assurednesswhilecrumblingontheinsidewasmysuperpower.
“Yes,that’sright.Nothingtolieabouthere.Justaquickdiscussion,”Isaid,turningmyattentiontoErinbecauseIcouldn’tstandtoseeSebastian’sreaction.
“Andy’allconcludedthatdiscussionwithahug?”Shepushedherglassesuphernose,hergazetrainedonSebastian.“Youcould’vetoldme.TheonlythingsIknowhowtokeeparesecrets.”
Sebastianstaredatmeforalongmoment.Then,“Youdon’tknowthisbutShapiroisacompulsivehugger.Hugseveryone.Allthetime.Fornogoodreason.Mustbeaplasticsthing.Justwait,she’llprobablyhugalloveryouonherwayoutofheretonight.It’sactuallyveryunpleasantsoprepareyourself.”HislipsturneddownintoadeepscowlwhichIdidn’tunderstandseeingashejustthrewmeundertheeffusiveaffectionbus.Heshould’vebeensmirkinghisassoff.BeforeIcouldminethatreactionanyfurther,hepluckedhisphonefromhisbackpocket,saying,“Igottaheadout,Erin.Igotcalledinonacase.Thanksforfeedingme—again.”
“You’renotoncall,”shesaidashebackedaway.
“Somethingcameup,”hesaid,pointingtohisphone.“Theyneedmeforathing.”
“Thatdoesn’thappen,”shesaid.“I’mseriousaboutyoulyingbetter.You’reterribleatthis.”Sheswungaglancetowardme.“Bothofyou.”
Sebastian’sgazemetmine.HewasstillscowlingandIcouldn’tdismissthefeelingthat,onceagain,hewasdisappointedaboutsomething.Hegaveabriefshakeofhisheadbeforedisappearingdownthehallway.NowIwassureofit—hewasdisappointedinme.Andforwhat?Preventingourcoworkersfromfindingoutwewerecarryingonatoxicgameofenemieswithbenefits?TherewasnowayIdidanythingwronghere,andifhisheadwastoofaruphisasstorealizeit,thatwashisproblem.Notmine.
IwasstillstaringafterSebastianwhenErinasked,“Haveyoueverheardofriftvalleys?”
Iblinkedawayfromtheemptyhall.“What?”
“Riftvalleys.They’reaproductofextensionaltectonics.Theplatespullapartovertime,creatingalinearlowlandbetweenhighlandsormountainranges.”
IbobbedmyheadbutIwassoconfused.“Right.Yes.”
“Someoftheworld’sdeepestlakesareactuallyriftvalleys.LakeBaikalinSiberiaholdsalmostaquarterofallthefreshwateronthisplanet.”Shelacedherfingerstogetherandthendrewthemapartuntilonlyherfingertipstouched.“It’sthisspectacularplacewheretheearthiscrackingapartandit’sbeendoingitfortwenty-five,maybethirtymillionyears.It’sthemostancientlakeinthegeologicalrecordandthat’sawildrideallonitsown.”
“Oh,wow.Really?”
“Butit’snotthewholestory.WhenIwanttoscaremyself—andImeanreallyscaremyself—IthinkaboutLakeBaikal,andI’mgoingtotellyouwhy.”
Imotionedforhertocontinue.WasIsupposedtounderstandanyofthis?“Pleasedo.”
“Baikalisthedeepestlakeintheworld.It’smorethantwiceasdeepasCraterLake,asTahoe.It’smorevolumethanalltheGreatLakescombined.”Shebroughtherfingerstogetheragainandpulledthemapart.“It’snearlyamiledeep,butwhenyouhitthatmilemark,youhaven’treallyreachedthebottom.There’sathicklayerofsediment”—shewiggledherbarelyjoinedfingertipsatme—”addinganotherfourmilesofdepth.Thisriftvalleysitsatleastfivemilesbeneaththesurface.”
“Andthat’s,Imean,it’sfivemiles.It’salot.So,thatisveryscary,”Isaid.“Icanseethat.”
“No,you’renotscared.Notyet.”Shedroppedherhands.“Therearebiggerlakesoutthere.Muchmoreprominent.Alltheonesthatcometomindwhensomeonetalksaboutagood-sizedlake.EvenseveraloftheGreatLakes,theonesIblewoffaminuteago,aremuch,muchbiggerthanthislong,ragged,skinnycrescentofbrokenearthinSiberia.Baikaldoesn’tlookremarkableonthesurfacebutthenyoukeepgoingdownanddownanddown,allthewaytothesedark,unimaginabledepths.Andwhenyougettothebottom,youfindthegreatopenwoundthatmakesBaikalwhatitis.”
What…whywasshetellingmethis?
“That’swhatscaresme.ThinkingofalakeabouthalfthesizeofLakeMichiganbutsixtimesasdeepandbrokenatthebottom.”Shestaredatmeforaheavymoment,edgedherglassesupagain.“It’scoldandlonelydownthere,youknow?”
Igulped.Thiswasn’taboutlakesorvalleys.“Yeah.”
“Ithoughtyoushouldknowthat.Ithoughtyoumightunderstand.Ihopeyoudo.”Noddingtoherself,Erintookastepbackward.“I’lljustsaythatlakeisimportanttome.I’mprotectiveofthatlake.ThelastthingIwantissomeonecominginwithheavymachineryorriskynewdrillingideas.IknowwhatthatlakehasseenandIdon’twantanyoneputtingitthroughanythingmore.”
Thiswasn’taboutlakesatall.
“Nowifyou’llexcuseme,IhavetogofindthemeteoriteIleftsomewherearoundhere,”shesaid.
“Sure.Yeah.Noproblem.”
Thiswasfine.
***
IstayedattheAcevedos’partyanotherhourthoughmystomachwasstillveryunsettledandIcouldn’tstopthinkingaboutthatfrownfromSebastian.Oh,andthelakes.Thosedamnlakes—andthatwarning.Shit.WhoknewErinwasthesecretmamabearofthissocialcircle?
IsplashedaroundinthesethoughtswhileparkingmyselfnexttoAlex,mydesignatedextrovert,whileshekepttheconversationgoingwithStellaandMalakai.Alex’shusbandwasbusypeeringupthechimneywithaflashlightandIbouncedbetweenwatchingthatfromERvisitwaitingtohappenandtuningintothechatteraroundmeuntilHartshornsidledupanddecidedtalkmyearoffaboutbloodclots.Hedidn’trequiremuchmoreengagementthanafewnodsandmurmursofagreement,whichwasgreatbecausewhatthehelldidSebastianhavetobedisappointedabout?WhatonearthcouldIhavedonewronghere?
Ofcoursetherewasnothing.IdidnothingwrongandSebastianknewthat.Hejustlovedbeingimpossiblymoody,evenattheexpenseoflogic.
Iwasn’tmissingsomething.Icouldn’tbe.Iunderstoodthesituationperfectly.
Afterbreakingawayfromtheclotconversation,Imadeaquickroundtosaygoodbyetoeveryoneandthenheadedhome.
WhatcouldIhavedonewrong?WhatdidSebastianexpectfrommehere?TherewasnofathomablereasonforustogiveErinatrueaccountingofourtoxiccycleofsex,violentteam-buildingactivities,andresentment.Definitelynot.Therewasnoexplainingthattoanyone.
Ididn’tdarebegintoexplainittomyself.
IstoppedinthefoyerwhenIarrivedhome,mykeysclutchedinmyfistandmygazetravelingupthetwistofthestaircasetowhereitleduptoSebastian’sapartment.Afteraminute,IstartedtowardthestairsbutIturnedbackbeforereachingthefirststep.AneternitypassedwhereIpacedthefoyer,replayedeveryminuteI’dspentwithhimearliertodayandthisevening,turningitalloverandoveruntiltheonlythingIcouldrecallwasthemomentwhenhewrappedhisarmsaroundme,holdingmewithmorepossessionthanI’deverreceivedfromhim.
ThatwastheonethingIdidn’tunderstand.
He’dneverhuggedmebefore,butmoreimportantly,ithadn’tbeennecessary.He’dmadeachoicetoreachformewithoutsexbeingonthetable.Obviously,wewerebothinsanebutnotinsaneenoughtogetnakedinthemiddleofAcevedo’shousesothathugwasn’taboutsex,itwasn’tabouthatingeachother,itwasn’taboutanyofthethingsthathadpreviouslybroughtustogether.
Oneofthesethingswasnotliketheother.
Thatjoltedmeoutofmypacing.IranupthestairsbeforeIcouldthinkbetterofit.
Iapproachedhisdoor,nothesitatingasecondbeforebringingmyknucklesdownonthewood.ThesoundechoedinthestillnessaroundmebutIwaspositiveI’dheardmovementontheothersideofthedoor.Acreakofafloorboard,abitofshuffling,something.Iwaited,convincedSebastianwasbusybeinganobstinateasswhogotoffonmakingmewait.
ButthenIrealizedI’dwaitedfartoolong.Evenifhewasinside,hewasn’tgoingtoletmeinandIwouldnotbegforhisattention.
Oh,hellno.
Ifinallytookmyselfdownstairsandtriedtosettleinforthenightbutthatwasoutofthequestion.Therewouldbenosettling.Notafter…everything.
Icouldn’tkeepdoingthiswithSebastian.Icouldn’tkeeptakinghisbait.AndIcouldn’tconfideinhimeveragain.TheonlyexplanationIhadfortellinghimaboutmyrecoverywasnausea-induceddelirium.Icouldn’tfindanyotherreason.Itwasn’tasthoughIwantedhimtoknow,thatIwantedhimtounderstandhowdifficultitwasformetoparticipateinthesimpleritualofeatingwithotherpeople,thatIwasn’ttherelentlesslyhostilewomanhetookmeforbutsomeonewhowasjusttryingtokeepittogetherwhileheturnedmylifeupsidedownwithhisside-eyesandhispenisandhisscowls.
Ididn’twantanyofthosethings,butmostofallIdidn’twantanyonetousemyprivatementalhealthandmedicalhistoryagainstme.Alldoctorswereheldtoanodddoublestandard—weweren’tsupposedtogetsickorexperiencechronicillnesses—andfemaledocshadanextralayerofthatdoublestandard.Ifwehadtomenstruate,getpregnant,orprogressthroughmenopause,wewereexpectedtodoitwithoutanyoneelsebecomingawareofthoseconditions.
Butthetrulyexponentialstandardcameintheformofmentalillness.Iknewpeoplewho’dbeenexitedfrominternships,residencies,andfellowshipsasaresultoftheirmentalhealthconcerns.Thatwasnevertheofficialreason.Itwasalwayssomethinglikeinadequateclinicalskillsormisfitinthespecialtyorfailuretokeepupwiththecoursework—andI’dnearlykilledmyselfavoidingthatfate.
Iwasn’tashamedofmyself,mydisease,ormyrecovery,butIwasn’treadytoletothersintothissideofmylife.
YetsomehowIwascertainSebastianwouldn’tdivulgeanythingI’dsaidtohimtonighttoanyoneelse.He’dsilentlyjudgemeforitbuthewouldn’tgossip.
Atthesametime,Iwascertainwewerevery,verybadtogether.Weclashedandscrapedandwoundedeachother,andwecouldn’tseemtostop.Icouldn’tkeepdoingthat.Iwasn’tinthebusinessofharmingmyselfanymoreandthatmeantIcouldn’tallowhimtoupturnmysafe,healthylife.Yes,he’dlistenedandhe’dhelpedmetonight—
Ohmygod
He’dheldmyhandthewholetime.
Therehadbeensomedoctoringbuthe’dheldmyhand.
WhileI’dbeendeep-breathingawaytherefluxandspasms.
He’dheldmyhand.CHAPTER21SARA
Iglareddownatmypaper.“You’regivingmeterribledirections.”
“You’reterribleatlistening,”Sebastianreplied.
“I’mlisteningtoyougivemeterribledirections,”Isaid,nudginghisflankwithmyelbow.“‘It’sroundandsometimeswooden.’Whatthefuckisthat?”
“It’sthebestdescriptionIcangiveyoubasedontherules,”hesaid,elbowingmeback.“Canyoustopsquirming?JesusChrist,you’relikeasackofangrycats.”
“Whywouldanyoneeverhaveasackofcats?Nowonderthey’reangry,they’reinasackbeingcarriedaroundbysomemaniaclikeyou.”
Icappedthemarkerandshoveditinthecuponthecoffeetable.Weweresittingback-to-backonthefloorofMilana’soffice,SebastianholdingacardwithanobjectonitwhileIattemptedtodrawthatitembasedonhisvagueclues.
Itwasn’tgoingwell.
We’dwalkedinherewithacloudofawkwardhangingoverus.Asidefromtheveryweirdwayweleftthingsovertheweekend,wehadn’tseenmuchofeachotherallweek.Itcould’vebeenaproductofmyschedulebeingchaoticorhecould’vebeenavoidingme.Ididn’tknowwhichoneitwas,thoughthepartofmybrainthatlikedtobelieveeverythingwasmyfaultandIcouldmakeeverythingbetterifIjusttriedhardenoughwaseagertodismissallmatterofmyschedule.Evenifitwasespeciallychaoticonaccountofanupcomingevent.I’dsharedsomuchpersonalinformation—alltheuncomfortable,unpleasantstufftoo—andnoonelikedthat.Noonewantedmyproblems.
“Theobjectwasafruitbowl,”Milanasaidinthatwarm,marvelingatthewholedamnworldwayofhers.“Afruitbowl.Sara,youhadtherightideagoing.Sebastian,youofferedsomegoodclues.Itwasatrickychallengethattestedyourabilitytoheareachotherandprocessthatinformationthroughyourownfilters.Welldone.”
Withoutanywarningatall,Sebastianpushedtohisfeetwhichhadthepleasanteffectofsendingmesprawlingbackonthefloor.“Thanksfornothing,”Isaid.
Herolledhiseyesatmeandofferedhishand,butIdidn’tneedit.Nope,allgoodhere.Butthenhebarkedoutalaugh,amile-deepbellylaughthatfilledmewithheatlikeI’dbeendousedwithactualfire.Pointingatmyt-shirt,hesaid,“Wrong.Completelywrong.”
Iglanceddownatmyshirt.Insideananatomicallycorrectribcagesatahotpinkcartoonheart.ThetextreadThewaytomyheartisthroughthefifthandsixthribs.OnthebackitsaidAndalsofood.Don’tforgetfood
“Anyidiotwouldaimfortheninthandtenth.Sameresult,halfthemess.”HeshookhisheadatmelikeI’dinsultedhimtohiscore.“Really,Shap.Iexpectedmorefromyou.”
“Ithoughtyoudidn’tmakeahabitofexpectinganythingatall.”
Heliftedhisbrowsasthoughhehadn’thammeredmeoverhisthoughtsonexpectationsinthejoustingring.“Whenitcomestoyou”—hedroppedaglancetomyshirt—”IguessIexpectbetterthanbadpractice.”
“Badpracticeiswhatlandedushere.”IwavedatMilana’soffice.
“Weputthatargumenttobedweeksago,”hereplied.“Youshouldleaveitthere.Inbed.Whereitbelongs.”
Ididn’tknowwhatthehellhewastryingtoaccomplishwithallthosereferencestobeds,butIignoredhimasIrockeduptomyknees.
OnceIwassettledonthesofaandbusywiththecroutonsI’dbroughtwithmetoday,Milanasaid,“It’smyobservationthatyouexperiencethemostfrictionintheplaceswhereyou’remostsimilar.”
SebastiansnortedandIwasproudofmyselfforignoringhim.Veryproud.Meetinghiseyesandacknowledginginsidethisroomthatwewerecarryingonasexualrelationshipwouldn’tendwellforme.Foreitherofus.
Evenifitwasatrainwreckinprocess,adisasterbuiltofangerandresentment,andblanketstuckeduptomychinandglassesofwater,Iwouldn’tbeabletohidethefactthatIwanteditagaintonight.Iwantedittoend,butIdidn’twantthatatall.Iwantedtostopscreamingathimallthetime,Iwantedtostopbeingangryabouteverything,butthecrazy,disastrousthingwehadseemedtorequirethatcatalyst.Icouldn’tgetwhatIwantedwithoutdroppingallpretenseofbeingperfect,beingincontrol.
Icouldn’tcontrolhimanymorethanIcouldcontrolthetides,anddammitI’dtried.AllIeverdidwastrytoexertsomecontroloverhimandeverysingletimeheshotmedownandhesworeIdidn’twantthatcontrol,Ididn’tneedit.
“Thethingsyoustruggletoacceptinyourselfarethesamethingsthatactivateyouinresponsetoeachother,”Milanacontinued.
“That’sfunny,seeingasIdon’thavemuchhistoryofscreechingatpeopleordestroyingexamrooms,”Sebastianmusedfromhisusualspotatthebookshelves.
“Youareatraumasurgeon.”IsaidthisasifIwasspeakingtoasmallchild.“Allyoudoisyell.We’veallseenit.We’veallheardit.Youyellinthehalls,youyellintheelevators,youyellintheOR.I’mnotsurewhichpartofyourtrainingteachestheshouting,butit’shightimeyouacceptthatyouandyourbrethrenareloudashell.You’renotanorthobro.You’renotcalmlikeneuroandyou’renotcrankylikecardio.You’retraumaandyouyell.It’showyoutellusthatwhatyou’redoingisreallyfuckingurgentandeveryoneelsehastogetoutofyourway.Sometimesitisnecessarytoyellatyoutogetyourattention.Youaresoaccustomedtocommunicatingthatwaythatyoudon’tlistenunlesssomeonemeetsyouatthatlevel.”
TherewasasolidminutewhereitseemedlikeSebastianheardandreceivedthosewords,butthenhesaid,“I’veneveroncedestroyedanexamroom.”
IturnedtoMilana,shakingmyhead.Shegavemeanotheroneofthosetrusttheprocessnods.“Iwon’tbeherenextThursdayso—”
“Whereareyougoing?”Sebastianasked.
“Doesitmatter?”
Herolledhiseyesthewaysomeonewouldwindanoldwatch.Icouldalmosthearhimticking.Then,“Iasked,didn’tI?”
“Askingdoesn’tentitleyoutoananswer,”Ireplied.
“Sebastian,itisworthnotingthatyouarescheduledfortimeoffnextweek,”Milanaadded.“Atleastthat’stheinformationthatwasprovidedtome.Yourmedicalassistanttoldmeyouhadtravelplans.”
Hepushedahandthroughhishair,nodded.Hewascompletelyunawareoftheseplansandsomethingaboutthattickledme.“Oh.Right.Yeah.”
IgesturedtomyselfbecauseIcouldbetickledandproveapointatthesametime.“Lookatthis.It’smenotbadgeringyouforinformationaboutyourplans.Seehowitworks?”
Milanagaveasoftclapofherhandsandsmiledatuslikethisconversationwasarealbreakthroughorsomething.“Seeingthatyou’llbothbeoff-siteandunavailableforoursession,I’dliketogivebackanhourofyourtimeinappreciationfortheworkyou’vedoneoverthesepastfewweeks.Whenyoureturn,we’llengageinourlastsession.”Shenodded,adding,“Nohomeworkthisweek.Justpromisemeyou’llbothgiveyourselvestheopportunitytorestandrefillthewellbeforereturning.Youdeserveit.”
WewentinoppositedirectionswhenweleftMilana’soffice.Sebastiantookthestairwellofstolenkisses,Ioptedfortheroundaboutjourneythroughseveralannexedbuildings.Therewasnowaywe’dcrosspathsunlessoneofusveeredoffcourseandIreallyhopedSebastiandidn’tdothat.Ihadafewcasestocheckonbeforeleavingfortheday,butmorethanthat,Ineededaminutetostraightenmyselfoutbeforerunningintohiminthefoyeronceagain.
I’dchangedoutofscrubs(andtheoffensivet-shirt)andalmostmadeittothehospitalexitwithoutrunningintoSebastianwhenIspottedhimwaitingbesidethedoor,hisarmscrossedoverhischestandhisfootproppedonthewallbehindhim.
IgavehimathoroughstudyasIpassed,thesortthatsaidIwastakinginthecrispgraytrouserswithwhichhe’dreplacedhisbruisedbluescrubsaswellasthewhitebutton-downheworeopenatthecollar.Heranahandoverhisjawtohideasmile.
Hecaughtuptomeonthesidewalk,hishandsshoveddeepinhiscoatpockets.“Tellmewhereyou’regoing.”
“Home,”Ireplied,tippingmychininthatgeneraldirection.
“Nextweek,”hegrowled.
“Really,doesitmatter?”
“ThefactI’veaskedmultipletimesshouldserveasproofthatitdoesmatter,”hesaid.
Ishothimanimpatientfrown.“Andwhyisthat?”
“BecauseIwanttoknow.”HesaidthisasifIwastheonebeingunreasonablehere.
“Ihaveaconference.Okay?”
“Whythefuckareyoudoingthat?Andwhereisthisthing?Whoareyougoingwith?Pleasetellmeit’snotjustyououtthereonyourlonesome.”
Westoppedatthecorner,waitingfortraffictoclearthecrosswalk.“Youdon’tneedanyofthatinformation.Notasinglebitofit.You’rebeing”—Ilookedhimupanddownagain,butthistimeithadnothingtodowithappreciatingthewayhisclotheshuggedhisbody—”unnecessary,okay?You’rebeingveryunnecessary.”
Hepressedahandtomybackaswestartedacrossthestreet.“Doyouhaveanyideawhatpeopledoattheseconferences?”
“Listen,IknowIlookgoodformyage—blameitonthesunscreen—butmyfirstplasticsurgeonsrodeothisisnot.”
“Peoplelosetheirmindsatconferences,”hecontinued,completelyignoringmycomments.“Getsomefreeliquorinthemandtheylosetheirdamnminds.”
“I’mnotsureifthisisgoodnewsorbadnews,butliquorandIdon’tgetalong,soIwon’tbelosingmymind.”WewalkeduptheslightinclineofBeaconHilltowardourbuilding,hishandstilllowonmyback.“It’sbarelyevenfourdays.In,out,over,andIammorethancapableoftravelingtoaprofessionaleventandbackwithoutincident.”
Sebastianclimbedthestepstothebuilding,hiskeysinhandwhileheshookhishead.“ThenIsupposeyouknowallaboutthepharmasalesbrosandthegrossdoctordudeswholeavetheirweddingringsathome.”Heheldtheouterdooropenwithhisshoulderwhileheunlockedthefoyerdoor.“Theoneswhomakeittheirgoaltocheatontheirwivesasmanytimesaspossible.Becausethoseassholestalk,andeventhoughyou’dprobablywarnthemoffwithyourscreechingandall,Ijustwantyoutobeaware—”
“Wow.Wow.”Ipressedmyfingerstomytemples.“Howdoyoumanagetodigaholethatdeepandthrowyourentirebodyintoitinlessthanthirtyseconds?Iwanttoknowbecauseit’ssounbelievable.Iwanttosqueezethejuiceoutofyourbrainjusttostudyit.”
“Iampreparingyouforyourconference.”Hepacedthefoyer,hishandsonhiships.“Ijustthinkyoushouldknowaboutthethingsthatgoonbeforeyougetthere.Thatwayyoucandecide,Imean,youneedtodecidewhatyou’redoing.”
Icockedmyheadtotheside.“Whatareyoutryingtosay?ThatI’mgoingonsometropicaldick-huntingmission?”
“I’msayingthatyou’re”—hewaggedbothhandsatmybody—”thisandthey’reassholesand—”
“Youseemtoknowquiteabitaboutthebehaviorofmenatmedicalconferences.”
Hewavedthatoffwithadismissivehand.“Don’tstartwiththat.”
“Andwhynot?You’restandingheretellingmeaboutalltheguysI’mgoingtosleepwithnextweekand—”
“Seriously,Shap.”Hestoppedpacingtorubagrimacefromhisbrows.“Takeitback.Please.”
“Areyou…jealous?”
Heshotmeascowlthatcould’veburnedthisbuildingtotheground.“Ofwhat?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmitted.“Pharmabros?Doctordudeswithobviousweddingringtanlines?I’mnotsure.”Thattopichitwaytooclosetohomeforme.“Whydon’tyouexplainthisoutbursttome?”
“Whydon’tyoujusttellmeyoudon’tplanondoinganydickhunting?”
“RegardlessofwhatIdowhileI’maway,it’snoneofyourbusiness.”Ipulledmykeysfrommybagandturnedtowardmydoor.Icouldn’twatchwhilethosewordssettledoverhim.Itwasbadenoughfeelingthemtwistthroughmybelly.“I’dalsoliketomentionthatIhavenoproblemwithyoutakingavacationanddoingwhateverthehellyouwant.”
Hecrossedthefoyer,sethishandsoneithersideofmydoor.“You’regonnaneedtoworkalittleharderifyouwanttoconvincemeofthat,youlittleliar.”CHAPTER22SEBASTIAN
ThereweredayswhenIleftthehospitalandIdidn’thaveanywordsleftinme.ItwaslikeIhadaspecificallotment,anumberthatvarieddailyandwasneversharedwithmeuntilI’dsurpassedit.WhenIwasout,Iwasout.Theonlyoptionwaspassingoutonthesofaaftersomecheerleadersandavocado,andprayingIwokeupwiththeabilitytospeak.
Obviously,I’dsurvivedmedicalschoolandresidencywherethirty-six-hourshiftswerenotunheardofsoIknewhowtopowerthrough,thoughitwasneverwithmuchgrace.NotthatIusuallyhadmuchgrace,butIcameofflikeacompleteasswhenIwasoverextended.
Iwasoutofwordsrightnow.Therewasnogoodreasonforit,butIwasdrainedandIdidn’tknowhoworwhere,butIfoundtheenergytotrapSaraagainstherfrontdoorandsay,“You’regonnaneedtoworkalittleharderifyouwanttoconvincemeofthat,youlittleliar.”
IgrippedthedoorframeashardasIcould.Iwasn’tgoingtotouchheruntilshestoppedwiththisbullshit.
“Whatdoyouwantmetosay?”sheasked.
“Sayyou’renotgoingtoaconferencetogetlaid.”Ileanedin,pressedmylipstoherhair.Shehadittiedupinanotheroneofthosebuns,butshedidn’tseemtoacceptthatherhairwouldnotberestrainedinthatway.AddittothelistofveryobviousthingsSaraShapirochosetoignoreonadailyfuckingbasis.
Withanexaggeratedsigh,shedroppedherforeheadtothedoor,saying,“I’mnotgoingtothisconferencetogetlaid.Idon’tlikepeople,especiallypeopleatconferences,andIcanspotcheatinghusbandsamileaway.Notthatit’sanyofyourbusiness,butIattendfortheprofessionalcontentandspendtherestofthetimeinmyhotelroom.IfIdidn’thavetogo,Iwouldn’t.”
Iwrappedmyarmsaroundhertorsoandkissedthesideofherneck.“Poor,antisocialscreechowl.”
“I’mnotantisocial,”shesaid.“Ijustcan’tdohighdosesofpeopleinthosekindsofsettings.”
“Iknow.”Iturnedheraround,leaneddowntokissheronce.“Theremustbementrippingoverthemselvesforyourattention.”
“Thedisgustingdoctordudes?”InoddedasIranmylipsoverhercheek,herjaw.“Iwouldn’tevenknowwhatthatlookedlike.”
“You’renotascutewhenyoufishforcompliments,Shap.We’vecoveredthis.”
“I’mnotfishingforanything—”
Ididn’thavethewords,butthatdidn’tstopmefromkissingthefightoutofher.Icoulddothat.Icouldtakeusintothepastelcloudofherapartmentandbangthebedawayfromthewallallnightlong.Icoulddothatforher.Icould—
Aloudcreaksoundedbehindus.“Fuuuuck.Whydoesthisalwayshappentome?”
SaraduckedherheadtomychestandItuckedherincloseasIglancedovermyshouldertofindRileyWalshdescendingthestairs.“CanIhelpyouwithsomething?”
Heshookhishead,straightenedhisgazetowardthedoors.Forthefirsttimeinhisentirelife,hedidn’tdousemeindeathglares.“Nope.Justwonderingwhythegodspunishmethisway.Carryon.”Whenhereachedthedoor,hecalled,“Goodseeingyou,Sara.”
Shegroanedintomyshirt.“IhavenomorethanthreeminutesbeforeAlexblowsupmytextmessages.”
“Givemeyourphone,”Isaid,pattingherpocketstofindthedevice.Founditonthefirsttryandsetittosilent.“You’renotdealingwithanythingotherthanwhatIwantyoutodealwithtonight.IpromiseI’llgiveitbackwhenIleave.”
Somecombinationofthosewordswaswrong.TherewasnootherexplanationforthewaySaratensedinmyarms.Abeatpassedbeforeshetookasmallstepback,puttingenoughspacebetweenustomakeitclearthatsomethinghadchanged.Then,“Wehavetostopdoingthis.”
Ireallydidn’thavethewordsrightnow.Ididn’tanditkilledme.“Inside,”Isaid,returningtoherpocketforthekeys.“Let’sgo.”
“Wedon’tlikeeachother,”shesaidwhenwehadthedoorclosedbehindus.“Weareso,sounhealthywhenwe’retogether.Haveyounoticedthat?”Shebroughtbothhandstoherchest,herfingertipsleavinglittledotsofcolorbehindeverytimeshetappedherclavicle.“Iamnotlikethisaroundanyoneelse.Iamaloof,yes,butIdon’tgetintofightsovereverylittlethingandcontemplatepummelingpeoplewithanoarallthetime.Don’tyouseeit?Weareadisaster.We’retoxic.It’swhatwedotoeachotherand—”
“Ohmygod,shutup.”Wincing,Iheldupahand.Thosewords,theyfuckingstung.“Juststopbeforeyouactuallydrowninyourowndrama.”
“Iamnotdrowningindrama.”SherespondedwithanexaggeratedfrownwhenIslippedoffmycoatanddroppedittothebackofhersofa.“I’msayingaweekortwoapartisprobablyagoodthing.”Sheshrugged,huggedherarmsacrosshertorso.“Maybewe’llbreakthislittlecycleofours.”
“That’swhatyouwant?”Isteppedclosertoher,tracedafingerdownthelineofherarm.Hersweaterwasimpossiblysoft,likeababy’sblanketrepurposedforthelikesofwomenwhoalwayshatedthethingstheywanted.
“Maybewe’llleavetownandrealizewe’vegottenitoutofoursystems.”
“Youdidn’tanswerme.”
Sheforcedasmilethatwould’veannoyedtheshitoutofmeamonthago,butonlymademesadnow.“WeonlyhaveonemoresessionwithMilana.I’msureitwon’tbeanissue.”
Ihookedmyfingersaroundthewaistbandofherpants,pulledhercloser.“Youstillhaven’tansweredme.”
Shepursedherlipstogetherinawaythatseemedliketheprecursortoherkickingmetothecurb,butthenshedroppedherhandsonmychest.“I’vebeenlookingatapartments.Imean,I’vebeenlookingformonths.Idoiteverynighttohelpmefallasleep.”Sheglancedupatme.Shedidn’tneedanyhelpfallingasleepwhenshewaswithme.“Well,almosteverynight.ButIwasthinkingit’stimetomakethatmove.I’mnotcutoutfordoorsthatdon’tworkwhenit’swet.”
Inoddedbecausetherewasnopointtostoppinghernow.Shewasheadandshouldersintothisone-sidedconversationandtherewasnoarguingwithher.NotthatIevenhadthewordstoargue.I’dfumbleitintheworstwaysandIcouldn’tletthatbehowthiswentdown.
Also,Icouldn’tletthisgodown.Thiswasn’tatoxiccycle.Therewasnogettingheroutofmysystem,notwhentheonlythingIrequiredinthislifewastoknowwhatSaralookedlikewhenshewokeupandwhatshefeltlikecurledaroundmeinthemiddleofthenight,andwhatshelikedtodowhenshewasn’tbusyscreechingandwhetherIcouldkeepherwithmefortherestofmytimeonthisearth.
DidIhavethelanguagetoarticulateanyofthis?Notatall.
DidIassumeIhadabitmoretimebeforeIhadtolearnthatlanguage?Fuck,yeah.
DidIhaveanyhopeofgettingthroughthisnightwithmyvitalorgansintact?Itwasanyone’sguess.
Withthattragedyinmind,Iyankedherbythewaistbandintoherbedroomandrelievedherofherclotheswhilesherambledaboutapartments.
“AndIwouldn’tmindsomethingalittlefartherawayfromthehospital,”shesaidasIplantedahandbetweenherbreastsandshovedhertothebed.“ThislocationwasperfectwhenIfirstmovedhere,butnowIknowalltheotherneighborhoodsandIunderstandhowtogetaroundsoI’mopentoCambridge.MaybetheBackBay.I’mnotsure.Ihavetolookaroundsomemoreand—oh.”
“Iknowyou’dliketodissociate,butI’dpreferyouenjoysomepartofthis.”IflippedheronherbellybecauseIdidn’ttrustmyselftobecloseenoughtoseethegoldinhereyesandkeepmyselfinorder.OnelookandI’dsaysomethingwrong,somethingdangerous,andI’druinit.Imean,fuck,shewantedtobreakthecyclewhileIwasbusymentallyscramblingtocancelthatvacationofminebecausethiscyclewastheonlythingintheworldIwanted.
“I’mnotdissociating.”Icouldhearherpouting.
“Don’tbeabrat.”Ideliveredalightslapbetweenherlegs.“I’vehadenoughofthatfromyoutonight.”
Sheglancedbackatme.“Whyhaven’tyoutakenyourclothesoff?”
Iopenedhertopdrawerandspentasolidminutereorganizingherhairties.Myonlyexplanationforthismesswasthatshesleep-shuffledthroughthisdrawereverynight.“Iwillwhenyou’rereadyforthat.”
“Whatareyouactuallysayingwiththosewords?”
Igrabbedoneofhervibrators—she’dhandedoverthefullcollectionweeksago—andclickediton,thenoff.Ishookmyhead.“Ifyoudon’tshutthatlittlescreechowlmouth,I’llfindanotheruseforit.”
Thatdidthetrick.
Iteasedherwiththevibratorforabit,carefultokeepmyhandbetweenhershoulderbladesandherfaceonthemattressbecauseIwasprettysureIwasstaringatherwithmurdereyes,butIcouldn’thelpit.Shewastalkingabouttwo-bedroomcondostohavearoomforyoga,andthrowingthehappy,non-toxiclifesheintendedtolivewithoutmeoverhershoulder,so,yeah,Icouldn’tseestraight.
Shecameonceonthevibrator,anothertimeonmytongueandfingers.Itwasn’tastruggletogetherthereseveraltimesinonenightnowthatshe’dgivenupontheimpossibilityofit.It’dbegreatifsheappliedthatlogictoothersituations.
IwasstillgivingherthemurdereyeswhenIsteppedoutofmytrousersandrolleddownthecondom.Herbodywaswarmandhumidwithsweatandherbunhadmorphedintoacrazyhaloofwispsandcurls,andIcould’vetorturedherforanotherhourortwo,butthisdidn’tfeelgoodformeanymore.ItfeltlikeIwasdrawingheramap,butinsteadofallowingittofunctionasamapandtellherwheretogo,shesawnothingmorethanaprettypicture.
Icouldn’tkeepdrawingthemap.Ithurttocreatesomethingandhavenoonenotice.
Iclaspedherwristsatthesmallofherbackandpushedinsideherslowly.Ihadtogoslowthistime.IhadtorememberhowshefeltaroundmeandwhyIlovedthefirstfewsecondsofoverwhelmingheatandpressurethemost.IhadtorememberandthenIhadtosaygoodbye.
Iwantedtotasteherneckandstowthatmemoryawaywiththerestofthem,butIdidn’ttrustmyselftoleanin,pressmychesttoherback.Ineededabitofdistancetokeepmefromgettingtoohonest.
Shewasalwaysquietwhenshecame,butthisonesurprisedme.Herlipspartedonasilentcry,butherbodywentwild,jerkingandpulsingagainstmelikeshewastryingtobreakloose.TheerraticrockofherthickthighskeptitgoinglongerthanI’dexpectedandthatwaswhenIlostmyselfimprintingthosememoriesintothemostsacredcornerofmymind.ThatwaswhenmycontrolslippedforaminuteandthiscametoanendIwasn’tpreparedtoaccept.
Theorgasmrippedmeapart.Itreverberatedintomychestandshoulders,andleftmesore,asifI’dtwistedeverymusclethewrongway.Istareddownather,stunnedandachingwhilemycockwentonspurtinglikemybodymeanttodraineveryounceofmeintothecondom.Thatitleftmeemptyandunsatisfiedseemedtobethepoint.
Saratwistedherhandsfrommygripandrotatedherwristsseveraltimes.Thatshookmefromthisstupor.“What’swrong?”Ipulledoutwithamiserablegroan,trulyrathersurprisedherpussyhadn’tsucceededinbitingmydickoffthistime.“Wasthattootight?Areyouokay?”
Sherolledtothesideanddroppedhergazetothefringeofasmallpillow.“I’mokay.”
“Letmeseeyourwrists.”
“No,”shesaid.“I’mfine.Idon’tneedanydoctoring.”Finally,sheglancedupatme.ThatIhadtoberippedapartaftercomingwithmyentiresoulwhileshestaredatmeseemedunfair.Thiswasallreallyfuckingunfair.“Ithinkweneedtoseewhathappenswhenwedon’thavesessionsandhomeworkassignmentsallthetime.Ithinkweneedtofigureoutwhatthat’slike.”
Isnatchedatissuefromthebureautocleanupthecondom.“Seemslikeyou’vealreadyfigureditout.”
“Don’tbeanasshole.”
“It’swhatIdobest.”Isteppedintomyboxersandtrousers,droppedmyfocustolatchingmybelt.IgrabbedmyshirtoffthefloorandshruggeditonasImarchedoutofherbedroom.Icouldn’tstaythereanylonger.Ialmostleft,butIcouldn’tmakeittothedoorwithoutpassingherkitchenandthatshelfofcoloredglasses.
Istaredatthoseglasses,justfuckinghatingtheirexistenceandallthebigandsmallthingstheyrepresented.Ididnotwanttowalkbackintoherroom,theonewithpillowsalloverthefloor,thebedawreck,thescentsofmeandherandusintheair,andthedrowsynakedgirlwhoownedmeinsideandout,butrefusedtoseeit.Ididn’twanttodoit.
“Fuckingwater,”Imuttered,grabbingaglassofftheshelfandflippingonthefaucet.“Shedoesn’tneedmetodothis.Doesn’tneedmeforanything.Nope,nope,nope.Fuckthewater.”Idumpeditoutonlytofillitagain.“Just…fuck.”
Ididthisthreetimesandseriouslyconsideredthrowingthefuckingcupatthewall,butthenshe’dprobablycutherselfonthebrokenglassandI’dhavetopatchherup,whichwouldkillmealloveragain.ForallIknew,shedidn’tevennoticethetimesI’dstraightenedherblanketsorbroughtherwaterafterfuckingthefightoutofher.Sheprobablydidn’tcare,soIdidn’tcare.
ButIcaredvery,verymuchanditwasincrediblyinconvenient.IknewifIdidn’tbringherthatwater,I’dasmuchasforfeitmyrighttoeverbringheranythingeveragain.
Andsincethatwasn’tsomethingIcouldlivewith,Iwalkedbackintoherroom.Thepillowswereallovertheplaceandthebedwasnowherenearthewallandtheairwasthickenoughformetotasteheronmytongue.Asforthedrowsynakedgirl,shewasstaringatmewithanannoyinglittlesmilethatdrewmeoutofmymiserylongenoughtorollmyeyes.
Isettheglassonthebureauandleaneddowntobrushakissoverherlips.Ishould’vewalkedawaythen,should’vedraggedmyassupstairsandcriedintosomeavocado,butIcouldn’tstopmyselfthistime.
“I’llseeyouintwoweeks,youlittleliar.Maybethenyou’llbeabletoadmitwhatyouwant.”CHAPTER23SARA
Alex:Myhusbandjusttoldmesomethingthatcan’tbetrue.
Alex:I’mgoingtoaskyouthisandI’mgoingtoneedyoutonotloseyourshitwhenIdoitbecauseit’ssuperinvasive.
Alex:Iwanttoprefaceitbysayingmyhusbandhasbeenknowntopopsomeweedgummiesduringthedayifhe’stryingtogetcreativeorwhateversoit’spossiblehe’simaginingthings.
Alex:Architects,man.Whoknewtherewasajobwheregettinghighatworkcouldbeagoodthing?
Alex:Honestly,Iwishhe’djustlockhimselfinhisofficewhenhedoesitbecauseotherwiseIgetahundredtextsaboutthebirdsinCopleySquareorsomethingandwhenIfinallygetachancetorespond,he’sbusyjerkingoffoverrooflines.
Alex:Idon’tmeanthatliterally.I’msorryforputtingthatvisualintoyourhead.Ijustmeantthathegetsreally,reallyexcitedaboutthingsIdon’tunderstand.
Alex:Backtomyoriginalquestion:HowisitgoingwithyouandStremmel?
Alex:Arethesesessionshelping?Areyougettingalittlecloserasfriends?Orsomething?
Alex:OkayIcan’tdothis.I’mnotsubtle.Ican’tpretendtobesubtle.AreyousleepingwithStremmel?
Alex:It’sfineifyouare,obviously,I’mjustshakentomycoreandquestioningeverythingIknowtobetrueintheworld.
Alex:Eitheryou’reignoringmeor…wow,okay,oryou’resleepingwithStremmelrightnow.
Alex:Iimmediatelyregretthisentireconversation.PretendIneverasked.
***
Alex:It’sbeenafewhourssoevenifyoudidthatthingIneveraskedabout,youcan’tstillbedoingit.Now,you’reprobablyignoringme.
Alex:Andthat’sfairbecauseIcameatyouwithawholelotofcrazytoday.
Alex:I’msorryforbeingintrusive.Thiswasallveryintrusive.
Alex:Ireallyamsorry.
Sara:Hey.Myphonewasoff.I’mjustcatchingupnow.
Alex:Areweokay?
Sara:Yeah,noworriesatall.
Alex:That’swhatpeoplesaywhentheyhavemany,manyworries.
Sara:Really,it’sallgood.
Alex:That’swhatpeoplesaywhenthey’renotevenclosetogood.
Sara:Ipromiseyou,everythingisallright,andpleasedon’ttrytotranslatethat.I’mfine.We’refine.Everythingisfine.
Alex:AndStremmel?
Sara:Can’tspeakforhim.
Alex:Areyouokay?Icancomedownstairsifyouwant.
Sara:Youaretookind.Thankyou,butno,Ireallyneedtodecompress.It’sjustbeenalongday.
Alex:You’resure?IfeellikeI’vescrewedthingsup.
Sara:Notatall!No,pleasedon’tthinkthat.Iswear,I’dtellyouiftherewasanissue.
Alex:Wouldyouthough?
Sara:Yeah,ofcourse.Sorry,Ireallyneedtogetsomesleep.
***
Controlwastrickyforme.
ThelessIhad,themoreIneededandthatmoreoftenrequiredborrowingfromthemosthigh-interestsources.Thecostnevermatteredinthemoment.Theonlythingthatmatteredwasgettingmyhandsaroundtheneckofonething—justone,thatwasallIneeded—andsqueezingithardenoughtomakethestressandupheavalinmylifefeelmanageable.
Ithadalwaysworkedforme.Itdidn’tmatterifmyhomelifewasgoingofftherailsonceagainormedschoolwasinsaneorresidencykickedmyass.Itdidn’tmatterifItradedgreaterandgreaterpiecesofmyselfeverytimeIwentinsearchofthatcontrolanditdefinitelydidn’tmatterthatI’dmademyselfbrittleandbrokeninalltheplacesIwasmeanttobesoftandpliable.AllIhadtodowasgetfromheretothere,sowhatwasthetroublewithkillingmyselfforthejourney?
Unlearningthoseruleshadbeendifficult.Thedesiretobequietandobedientandworthyofexternalvalidationneverquitedisappeared,butIcouldgrabaholdofthethreadsofitnow.Icouldtwistthemaround,turnobedientintothepracticeofcaringformyselfwithoutexception,turnquietintoasensationIkeptinsidemybodyratherthanalockonmyvoice,myneeds—andthatwastheplaincoreofit.Goodlittlegirlswhogrewupintopeople-pleasingwomendidn’tgetthatwaythroughanyinnatealtruismorfeminineurgetokeepthepeace.Wegottherebecausewelearned,atsomepoint,thatourneedswereaproblembestkepttoourselves.Weweremostworthywhenourexistencedidn’tbotheranyone.
ThereweredayswhenIwasgreatatbotheringpeople.I’dbotheredSebastianintoaparalyzinggameofbickering,insults,andsex.Otherdays,Icouldn’tacceptthesimplyofferedaidofafriendwithoutviewingitasthebyproductofbeingpitifullyanddisgustinglyneedy.Icouldn’timpose.Iphysicallycouldnotallowthattohappen—becausecontrolwastrickyforme.Itdidn’tpackitselfupandmoveontoanotherhost.Itchanged.Itshape-shifted.Itturnedintoanobsessiveneedtoheal,acycleofinterrogatingmythoughtsuntilI’dbledoutthemostinvasiveofthem,anendlessbattlebetweentheperfectionistandthesavageinsideme.
Icouldn’tprymyfingersloosefromthestrangleholdIhadonthoselastfewfringes.Iwasn’tstrip-miningmybodyandspiritforcontrolanylonger,butthemissionwasunchanged.Findpeacefromthechaos,nopricetoohigh.CHAPTER24SARA
Thefirsthalfoftheweekseemedtopassindashesanddots,somehoursflyingbywhileothersdraggedonuntilIwascertainIcouldfeeltheweightofeverypassingsecondgatheringonmyskin.Icouldn’tstopmyselffromlookingforSebastiandowneveryhallandineverystairwell.Iknewhewasn’tthere.Imean,I’dpeekedoutfrombehindmycurtainstowatchhimclimbintoacabearlySaturdaymorning,ablackballcappulledlowoverhiseyesandhisscowlloudenoughtostoptraffic.Iknewhewasn’therebutIcouldn’tstopmyselffromlooking.
Onseveraloccasions,Iseriouslyconsideredbailingonthisconference.Ineverwantedtoattendthesethingsbutthisoneinparticularwasripeforanyreasontobegoff.ThetopicsbeingpresentedwereonlyobliquelyrelatedtomydailyworkandI’dalreadymeteveryoneworthnetworkingwith,andworstofall,myfatherwasattending.
AndthatwaswhyIhadtobethere.
Thethingabouthardcorenarcissistslikemyfatherwasthatattentionwastheiroxygen.Iftheydidn’tgetenough,theysuffocated.Bythatlogic,Icouldcutoffcontactwithmyfather—whichI’ddoneatvariouspointssincemovingoutonmyown—andliveahappy,narcissist-freelife.Exceptthatlogicheldnowater,notwhenIworkedinhisfieldandhehadthepersonalcellnumbersofallthepeoplewhomadedecisionsthatdirectlyimpactedmycareer.
UnlessIwantedmyfathertoturnblueandprovewhichoneofusreallyknewhowtothrowtantrums,Ihadtoshowupatthisboondoggleandplayalong.Ifyouaskedhim,he’dsaywewereascloseasanyfather-daughterplasticsurgeonpaircouldbeandhe’dweaveaveryconvincingtaleabouthandingoverhispracticeinOrangeCountytomewheneverIwasreadytoreturnhome.
ThelistofthingsI’ddobeforeI’devermovehomeandtakeoverapracticefocusedalmostexclusivelyoncosmeticsurgerywasmilesandmileslong.Asidefromthat,myfatherwouldsoonerburstintoflamesthanhandoveradamnthing.Hispracticewastheonlythingintheworldhelovedinareal,truesense.Headmiredmanypeopleandhadfondnessformanyothers,buthelovedtheempirehe’dbuilt.If,forsomeunimaginablereason,IreturnedtoCalifornia,he’dmicromanageandsecond-guessmeintoacompleteandtotalbreakdownandthatdidn’tbegintocoverthewayshe’derodemymentalhealth.Theonlythingsthathadeversavedmeweredistanceandindependence,andIhadtodowhateverittooktopreservebothofthose.
ItgotuglywhenIdidn’t.
Thatwasthethoughtlivingrent-freeinmyheadthroughtakeoffandlanding,whilewaitingformyluggage,andthedarkcabridetotheresort.Thatuglinesswasthereasonmyhairwasfreshlycutandcolored,mynailsprofessionallymanicured,thecreasesinmyforeheadparalyzedwiththemostprecise,carefulinjectionsofBotoxintheland.ItwasthereasonfortheinexcusablyexpensivesandalsanddressesI’dorderedaswellastherefillsonallofmygastrointestinalmedsandthemultitudeofplaincrackersI’dpacked.
ItwaslatewhenIarrivedattheresort,toolatetogetanyfeelforthesurroundings.NotthatIwantedtogoexploring.Ihadn’tsleptwellsincethelasteveningI’dspentwithSebastian.Icouldn’tkeepreplayingtheconversationandtryingtoparseoutwhyhe’dbeensoupsetwithme.Istilldidn’tknow,butnowIwastiredenoughfromtravelingthatI’dprobablymanageafewhoursofdeepsleepbeforeIhadtogirdmyselfforthesenextfewdays.
IwavedoffthehelpoftheresortstaffbecauseIcouldn’tmanagesmalltalkingwhenIjustwantedtobealone,insteadacceptingamapwithlotsofscribbledhighlighterasaguideandsteeringmysuitcaseinthevaguedirectionofmybungalow.Thatwashowthisresortrolled—bungalows.Nothingsodreadfulasabuildingwithroomslinedup,onebesideanother,ontopofanother.No,thisplacewasallaboutbungalows,beachhuts,villas.IfIhadtosufferthroughthisevent,atleastIcouldstayinabeachfrontbungalowwithafullystockedfridgeandanoutdoorrainshower.Seemedonlyfair.
“Sara.”
Iwhirledaround,searchingthelobbyforthetoo-familiarvoice.WhenIfoundthesourceofthatvoice,itfeltlikeI’drippedagiantbagofjellybeansclearopenandnowtheywerespillingoutofmyhands,pingingoffthestoneflooratmyfeet,rollingandscatteringandshootingacrosstheroom.I’dneverbeabletogatherthemallupandI’dneverbeabletoputthembackinthebagbecausethebagwasatatteredscrapofplasticthatcouldneverexistthewayithadbeforeI’dtornitopen.Allitcouldbenowwasablown-openwreck,somethingthat’doncecontainedeverysingleoneofthesejellybeans.Icouldn’tgobacktothebefore,toanythingotherthanarealitywhereSebastianStremmelwasnomorethantenfeetawayfrommeinshortsandat-shirt.
Butitwascompletelyreal,rightdowntotheblindsidedexpressiononhisfreshlysun-kissedface.
And…andhe’dcalledmeSara.
NotShap,notShapiro.Nottinytornado.Sara
Ididn’twantthattomeansomething—Ididn’twantittomeananything—becauseweweren’tdoingthisanymore.Wecouldn’t.Icouldn’tcontinuehurtingmyselfthisway.
So,Ididtheonlysensiblethingandboltedinthedirectionofmybungalow.OrIhopeditwastherightdirection.ItwasdarkandIhadn’tpaidenoughattentiontothatmapandthenmynemesis-loverappearedlikeawillpowermiragesotherewasasolidpossibilityIwaslostinmorewaysthanone.
“Sara,”hecalled,asnapofimpatienceinhisvoice.“Whatthehelldoyouthinkyou’redoing?”
“Walkingaway,”Ireplied,hangingadecisiveleftataforkinthepath.
“Well,honey,you’rewalkinginacircle.”
Hegrabbedmyelbowandjerkedmetofacehim.Iavoidedhisgaze,insteadglancingatthebuildingsnearby.Theassholewasright—I’dtraveledinadamncircle,makingitallthewaybacktothelobbyandaccomplishingnothing.
“Istheresomethingyouwant?”Iasked.
“Youcouldstartbytellingmewhatyou’redoinghere.”Hereleasedmyelbow,slidhishanddowntomywrist.“Endwithexplainingwhyyoutookofflikethat.”
“WhatamIdoinghere?”Ishookmywristfreefromhisgrip.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“I’monafuckingvacation,”hethundered.“Andyou’resupposedtobeatafuckingplasticsconference.”
Istaredathimforasecondbeforeblinkingaway.“Iam.Iamataconference,it’sjustnothere,”Isaid,suddenlyhitwithalltheexhaustionofthisweek.“Theconferenceisatanotherresort.Ontheothersideoftheisland.”
“Howthehelldidthishappen?”Hestaredatme,clearlystrugglingtoacceptthatweendeduponthesameCaribbeanislandwithouttrying.Iwaspaddlingthesameboat.“HowdidInotknowyourconferencewasinJamaica?”
“Wedon’thavemuchexperiencewithaskingeachotherquestions.Wedon’ttalk,okay?Wefightaboutnothingandhaveangrysexandsaymeanthingsinsteadofdoinganythingnormalorhealthyorprofessional.”
Heopenedhismouth,anargumentattheready,butstoppedhimselfbeforesayinganything.Then,“Why?”
“Why,what?”
Heglancedtotheside,takingaminutetostareatthetropicalplantsliningthepath.“Whydon’twetalk?”
“Becausewehateeachother,”Isaid.
“Isthatwhatthisis?”WhenIdidn’trespond,hesaid,“So,you’rehere.”
Ibobbedmyhead.“Yes.”
“Fortheweek.”
Iwavedatmyluggage.“Justafewdays.”
Heshovedhishandsintothepocketsofhisshortsandstaredatmelikehewassearchingforsomething.Likehe’dlostsomethingandifhejustlookedhardenough,he’dfindit.Eventually,hegrowled,“Sara…”
“Whyareyoucallingmethat?”Isnapped,myexhaustionquicklyreplacedwithacracklingfrustrationthatwasprimedtoexplode.“WhyamISarahere,butbackhomeI’mShap,I’mShapiro,I’mtheevilsiliconewench.”
“Ihavenevercalledyouanevilsiliconewench,”hesaid,slicingbothhandsthroughtheair.“Never.”
“Maybenottomyface.”Iscowledathim.Agood,snarlyscowl.Seehowhelikedit.“You’vethoughtit.”
Hesnatchedthehotelpaperworkfrommyhandandleafedthroughitasheshookhishead.“You’regoingthewrongway.Comeon.”
IstaredafterSebastian—whenhadhebecomeSebastiantome?Howhadthathappened?—ashetookoffintheoppositedirection.Ilookedaround,noticingforthefirsttimethebeachjustbeyondthepath.Itwascompletelyemptyandawashinmoonlight,andIwantedtoplopdownthereandbeblissfullyalone.Ididn’twanttofightwithhimeverydayandIdidn’twanttolivewiththiskindofconstantupheaval.ItfelttoomuchlikethedramaI’dgrownupwith,likemyparentsandtheirchaos.IwantedSebastiantogobacktohisroomandhisvacationandhiswholedamnlife.Iwantedhimtoleavemealone.
Iwantedthosethings.ItrulydidandIbelieveditasdevoutlyasIbelievedingravityandkarmaandantibiotics.
YetIfollowedSebastiantomybungalow.
Iallowedhimtoopenthedoorandshowhimselfinside,glancebackatmewithafrownlikeareyouwaitingforafuckinginvitation,getinhere,andthenreturnoutsidetosnatchthesuitcaseawayfromme.IlethimpresshishandtothesmallofmybackwhereIwassweatdampandsoverypainfullyimperfect,andIlethimguidemeintothebungalow.Iwatchedwhilehecarriedmyluggageintothebedroom—whyusethewheelswhenyouhadarmslikethat?—andInoddedinagreementwhenheannouncedhewastakingthebagfrommyshouldertoo.
Ididn’tstophimbecauseIdidn’twanthimtostop,andmorethanthat,Ididn’twanthimtoleave.Thatwassomuchworsethanmybaselinefrustrationswiththisman.IhatedhimforbringingallthesecontradictoryemotionstomylifeandIhatedmyselfforlettingthoseemotionsmakeroomforthemselvesandstay
“Whyareyoudoingthistome?”Isuddenlysnappedintoaction,marchingtowardthekitchen.Fornoapparentreason,Ineededtoopeneverydrawerandcabinet,peerintotherefrigerator,turnthetaponandoff,toucheverydishtowel,andexamineeveryrandomobjectIencountered.Allwhileshouting,“Why?Justtellmewhy.”
Insteadofansweringme,Sebastiantrailedbehindmeataleisurelypace,shuttingthedrawersalltheway,refoldingthetowels,straighteningallthoserandomobjects.“WhatamIdoingtoyou?”
“This,”Icried,stoppinginthecenterofthelivingroom,myarmsthrownoutwide.“You’redoingthisandit’sdrivingmecrazy.Doyouunderstandthat?”
Hestoodbehindacreamywhitesofa,hishandscurledaroundtheback.“WhathaveIdonetoyou?Explainittome.I’dreallyliketohearthat.”
“Don’tdothat,”Iwarned.“Don’tpretendthatI’mtheonewhocan’thandlethiswhenyou’retheonedoingittome.Myentirelifeisoutofcontrolwhenyou’rearound.It’sliketheonlythingintheworldIcandoisyellatyouorripyourclothesoff,andIwantittostop.Ineedittostop.Everyweek,Ipromisemyselfit’snotgoingtohappenagain,I’mnotgoingtodothiswithyouanymore,butthen”—Idroppedmyarms,shookmyhead—”it’slikeI’msomeoneelse.Becausethisisn’tme!Idon’tgoaroundscreamingatpeopleandhavingsexeveryweekand—”
“It’sthefrequency?That’stherealproblem?Youshould’vesaidsomethingsooner.”
Igrabbedapillowfromthesofaandlobbeditathishead.“ShutupwhenI’mtalkingtoyou!”
Hefetchedthepillowfromwhereitlandedandreturnedittothesofabeforepacingtowardme.“Ifyou’retryingtomakethecasethatyou’renotapsychoticlittlescreechowl,you’regoingtoneedtostopsayingillogicalshitlikethat.”
“Thisisn’tme,”Iwhispered,heatgatheringbehindmyeyesandemotiontighteningmythroat.Iwasn’tgoingtocry.Nothappening.Nothere,notnow.Notinfrontofhim.“Ican’tbethispersonanymore.IfeellikeIamcomingapartattheseams,likeI’mcrumbling,andIcan’tdoitanymore.”
Isteppedtowardhim,myhandsraisedwiththeintentionofshowinghimtothedoor.Tearsstreameddownmyfaceinanotherpromisetomyselfbroken.
“Iknow.”Hetookmyhandsinhis,pressedthemtohisshirt.“Iknow.”
Imashedmyfaceagainsthischest,blottingtearsandmadnessonhist-shirt.“Youdon’tknowanything.YouthinkI’mawful.”
Hebroughthischintothetopofmyhead,letoutasighthatwould’vesoundedlikecontentmentcomingfromanyoneelse.“Idon’tthinkyou’reawfulatall.”
“YoujustsaidI’mapsychoticscreechowl,”Isaidwithasniffle.
“YouknowIsaythatwithlove.”
“Shutup.Theonlythingyouloveisgettingmeangryenoughtowanttohavesexwithyou.”
Foralongmoment,theonlysoundsbetweenuscamefrommysnifflesandshudderingbreaths.Itseemedlikewecould’vestayedthereforhours,lacedandlockedtogetherwhiletheworldwentonwithoutus.Ihatedthatitwassoeasy.AllIhadtodowasrubmycheekagainsthishardchestandsuckinalungfulofhiscleanscent,andIforgotallthereasonsIneededhimtoleave.IforgoteverythingI’dswornI’dremember.Everythingthatmadethissodamnmessyforme.
“Iwantacease-fire,”Sebastiansaid,hislipspressedtothecrownofmyhead.“Fromnowuntilyouleave,nofighting.”
“Idon’tthinkwecandothat.”
Heshrugged.“There’sonlyonewaytofindout.”
IhidasmileagainsthischesteventhoughIwantedtolungeforhim.Wrapmyhandsaroundhisneckandwatchthoseobscenelylonglashesfallshutwhilehisscowlshiftedintoasmile.Hewouldsmile.He’dgrinwhileIpressedmythumbintheexactspottocutoffhisairsupply,andthatsaidsomethingaboutthetoxicitywecreatedwhenweweretogether.Ifitalsosaidsomethingabouttrust,Ididn’thavetheproperearstohearit.
“Stopfallingapartforaminuteandseewhatit’slikewhenwedon’tfight,”hesaid.“Showmewhoyouarewithoutallthescreeching.Whoknows?Imightlikeherbetter.”
“Ifyouwantacease-fire,you’regoingtohavetoputyourfightingwordsaway.”
“Tellmeyouwantacease-fireandIwill,”hereplied,givingourjoinedhandsasqueeze.“Beasstrongasyoualwaysareformeandsayyouneedacoupleofdayswhereit’sjustusandnoneofthebullshitweleftathome,andIwillgiveyoueverythingyouwant.”Heranhislipsovermyforehead,mytemple.“YouknowIwill.”
AnotherrushoftearsburnedmyeyesasInodded.“Iwantit.”
ThescarypartwasthatImeantitandIcouldn’tevenblameitonlosingmymindaswetumbledintobedbecausetherewasn’tasinglesexythingaboutthismoment.Iwassweatyandsnottyandsobbingintohisshirtforreasonsthathadnothingtodowiththemiracleshispenisworked.
Hefreedhishand,skimmedathumbacrossmycheeks.“Don’tcry,tinytornado.”
“Believeme,cryinginfrontofyouisthelastthingIwanttodo.”
Hisscowltwistedtightacrosshislipsashegavemeaquicknod.“Right.Yeah.Howaboutashower?”
Idroppedmyforeheadtohischestagain,heavedoutabreath.“I’mgross.Iknow.There’snoprettywaytotravelfromwinterweathertotropicalweather.”
“No,honey,you’reclothed,”hesaid.“That’stheproblemI’mattemptingtoaddress.”
“It’sbecauseIthrewapillowatyou,”Isaid.“Andyelledaboutmylifebeingoutofcontrol.That’swhatturnsyouon.”
“It’sreallynot.”Heranhisknucklesdownmyback,silentalongmomentbeforelettingthathandtravelovermybackside.Hegavemearoughsqueeze,jerkedmeclosertohim.“Ihaven’tstoppedthinkingaboutyouonce.IthoughtIwashallucinatingwhenIfirstsawyou.ThatIwassooutofmymindwithwonderingwhatyourt-shirtsaidtodaythatyoumaterializedoutofthinair.”
“‘LettheBeatDrop,’”Isaid.“WithadrawingofaQRScomplexonanEKG.”
“Ohmygod.”Hegrowledagainstmyneck,adeep,rumblysoundthatseemedtogoonforever.“Yeah,Ineedtogetyououtoftheseclothes.You’reanerdylittlenutcracker,youknowthat?”
Notwaitingforaresponse,heshovedhishandinmybackpocketandsteeredmetowardthebedroom,pullingoffmyshirtandthumbingopenmybuttonflyaswewent.
“Didyoubringanytoys?”
“Like,sextoys?No.Idon’tneedawkwardairportsituations,thankyou.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?Nevermind.Whatisthisthing?Isitasportsbra?”heasked,runningafingerundertheband.
“It’sabralette,”Ireplied.“It’scomfortableandI’mnotinterestedinyouropinionofit.”
“AllIwanttoknowishowtogetitoff.”Hereachedforthebandagain,butIbattedhimaway.
“I’llgetit,”Isaid,elbowingmywayoutofit.
Inmybriefglimpseofthebedroom,Icaughtsightofahugebedwithgorgeouswhitelinensandadreamycanopy.Ialmostaskedhimtotakemetobed,butthenheflippedonthelightsinthebathroomandIknewthiswasthewaytogo.Theshoweritselfwasthesizeofthekitcheninmyapartment.Allmyappliancesandallofmycounterspacecouldfitinthere,andtherewasstillroomforme,Sebastian,andallseventyoreightyoftheshowerheads.
“Whoa.”
SebastianreachedbehindmetoswitchonthewaterandsuddenlyitsoundedasthoughIwasstandingbehindawaterfall.
“Whoa,”Irepeated.
“Yes,indoorplumbing,verynice,”hesaid,pushingmyjeansdownmylegs.Hegavemypantiesanimpatientglare.“Lesstalking,morenakedandwet,please.”
Isteppedoutofmyjeansandunderwear,kickedthemaside.Imotionedtohim,saying,“Practicewhatyoupreach.”
Heyankedhisshirtoverhishead.“Yourhair,”hesaid,confusioncreasingthecornersofhiseyes.“It’sdifferent.”
Ireachedforhiswaist,unlatchedhisbelt.Senthisshortsfallingtothefloor.“Yeah,Ihadthecolordone.Alittlelighter,therootstouchedup.”Whenhewentonstudyingme,stillconfused,Iadded,“Thisisn’tmynaturalcolor.It’smediumbrown.Iwould’vethoughtyou’dfiguredthatoutbynowwith…youknow,everything.”
“Iwould’vethoughtyou’drealizedIamstupidandhelplessandsingle-mindedwhenIgetyourclothesoff,”hereplied,tuckingafewwispsofhairovermyear.Heloopedanarmaroundmyback.“TheonlythingIeverwanttofigureoutishowtokeepyounaked.”
“Idon’tthinkthat’strue.”Whenhedidn’trespondtothat,Iasked,“Howdoesthiswork?Thiscease-firething?Asidefromnotinsultingeachother,whatarewesupposedtodo?”
Hestaredatmymouthforasecond,shookhishead,andthenpressedhislipstomine.Steamrosearoundusandthatdampheatlickedatmyskinwhileeverythinginsidemeturnedsoft.Thatwasit,Iwassoftwhenhekissedme—butalsoneedyandstarvedandmindless.Therewasnothingelseintheworldwhenwecollidedlikethis,andwhileIwashere,withhishandinmyhair,hisshafthardagainstmybelly,andeverythinginsidemelightingupinresponse,Ididn’twantanythingelse.
Sebastianbackedmeintotheshower,agentlemistrainingoveruswhilewekissedandclimbedandpawedateachother.“Ididn’tcomeherewiththeintentionofhavingsex,”hesaid,hislipsonmyjaw.
“Considerthisahappyaccident.”
“Imean,”hestarted,rockingagainstme,“Idon’thavecondomswithmebecauseIdidn’tcomeherewiththeintentionofhavingsex.”
Iblinkedwateroutofmyeyes.“NeitherdidI.”
Hedroppedhisforeheadtomyshoulderandgaveagroanthatechoedaroundus.“I’mbothveryhappytohearthatandalittledevastated.”
Ibrushedahanddownhisback,curledmyfingersaroundhisshaft.Gavehimafirmstrokethathadhimgroaningagain.“IhaveanIUD.”
Ifelthisteethonmyneck,myshoulder,thehingeofmyjaw.“Andyou’recomfortablewith—”
“Hastherebeenanyoneelse?Sincethestart?”
Hesuckedinabreathashethrustintomyhand.“Iwentinfullyexpectingyourpussytobitemydickoff.It’sjustyou,honey.”
Ihookedmykneearoundhiship,leanedbackagainstthecooltile.“ThenI’mcomfortable.”
“Youdon’thavetobe.”Hetookholdofmyknee,notchedithigher.Draggedhisfingersupmyinnerthigh,overmyfolds.“Don’tsayyesbecauseyouthinkit’swhatIwanttohear.”
Igrabbedforthebackofhisneck,myfingersslidingthroughhishairandforcinghismouthtomine.“Ican’tfigureoutwhy,”Imumbledbetweenkissesandbites,“butIdon’tknowhowtodoanythingjustbecauseIthinkit’swhatyouwant.Ever.It’slikeIdon’tevenknowhowtopeople-pleasearoundyou.It’sfreakingmeout.”
“That’sright,”hegrowled,spearinghisfingersinsideme.“Givememoreofthat.Givemethatstrongbadasswhotakesnoshitfromanyoneandthencomesformelikesuchagoodgirl.”
“Don’tsaythat.Youknowitdoescrazythingstome.”Itippedmyheadbackagainstthetileandstaredatthewaterpouringoutfromtheheadsstationedalongtheceiling.“Reallycrazythings.”
“That’swhyIsayit.”Heswipedhistongueoveranipple,butquicklypulledback.“Sara.You’rebleeding.Isthatokay?”
“What?Oh,shit.”Itwistedoutofhisgrip,scrambledtotheothersideoftheshower.Ofallthetimesformycycletoremindmeitwasirregularashell.“Sorry.Ithoughtmyperiodendedyesterday.Nowthisisfreakingmeout.”
Heshovedbothhandsthroughhishairwhilehiserectionjuttedout,proudandruddy.“Areyouokay?”
Iglancedaroundforsoaporawashcloth—anythingtooccupymyhands.“Yeah.Ididn’tmeanforyou—well,it’sfine.I’mfine.”
“Doyouwanttostop?”
EventhoughI’dneverdonethisbefore,Ishookmyhead.“Notreally.”
“Thenwhythefuckareyouallthewayoverthere?”heasked,crossingthekitchen-sizedshowerintwostrides.“WhatkindofchilddoyouthinkIam?Ifyou’reokay,I’mokay.Forfuck’ssake,weareinashower,Sara.Andafterwe’redonehere,I’llputatoweldownifyou’reworriedaboutthesheets.”
Ireachedout,flattenedmyhandoverhisheart.“I’mokay.”
“That’sarealfuckingreliefsinceI’maboutaminuteawayfrompaintingthewallbecauseyou’rehereandwetandnaked,andallofthosethingsaremyfavoritethings.Canyouendthefreak-outsandletmefuckyou?Please?”
AhystericallaughburstfrommylipsandIshiftedthathanddownhistorso,overthatgorgeouslineofdarkfuzz,togriphiscock.“Comehere.”
“Thankyou,”hegroaned,backingmeupagainstanotherchillywalloftile.
Waterpouredoveroneshoulder,slickingusupaswemovedtogethertofindtherightfit.Hereachedformykneeagain,brushedathumbovermyclit,groundhisshaftbetweenmylegs.Hemurmuredinmyearaboutmyskin,mybody,howmuchhewantedme,howhardhewasforme,buttheexactwordsalwaysgottrappedinaboxthatseemedtoholdthemaminutebeforesharingthemwithme.Asifadelaywasrequiredtokeepmefromspontaneouslycombusting.
Hepushedinsidemewithaslowrockandthatwasallittooktoremindmewhywedidthis.Whywecouldn’tstop.Whygettingitoutofoursystemswasafunnylittleliewetoldourselvestomakeitseemlikeweweren’tflat-outaddicted.
Wefittogetherinawaythatmademequestioneverythingintheworld.EverychoiceI’devermade.Ifitdidn’tleadtothismanandmyanklesoverhisshoulders,whatwasIevendoingwithmylife?Nothing,thatwasthesimpleanswer.Anythingthatexistedoutsideusdidn’tmatter.Jobs,families,counselingsessions.Noneofitmattered.Thismattered—itwasspecialandrareandterrifying.
“Talktome,”hesaid,hisarmhookedundermykneeashepoundedmeintothewall.“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking,butIneedtohearit.”
Islippedahanduphisneck,intohishair.“WhatamIthinking?”
“You’rethinkingthatitcan’tbethisgood,butitisanditonlygetsbetter,”hepanted.“Andthat’sinsane.”
“It’sinsane.”Ipressedthepadofmythumbtohislips.Hesuckedatme,bitdown.Thatbitesentastrange,gloriousthrobtomyclit.“Whatareyoudoingtome?”
“Ithinkyou’redoingittome,”hesaid.“Now,beagoodgirlandcomeonthiscock.I’mgoingtopinchyourclituntilyoudo.”
“I’mnotready,”Iwhined,myfingerstwistingandpullingathishair.
“Yes,youare,”heyelled.“Stopfighting.Letmegiveyouwhatyouwant.”
Hewassothickandmademefeelsofull,sooverwhelmedwithsensation.AllIcoulddowastughishairandwatchwhilehestareddownatme,hisgazefilledwithcertaintyandhisjawtight.Icouldn’tevenmove.Iwaspinnedtothiswall,spreadaswideopenasIcouldbe,andclingingtotheedgewitheverylasttoeandfingernailbecauseIwasn’treadytofallover.
“Ican’t,”Iinsisted.
“Doyoufeelthat?Doyoufeelyourclitthrobbing?Ido.MaybeIshouldmakeyoupinchit.Thenyou’llseehowreadyyouare.”
“I’mnot.”
“Youknowyou’veearnedit.Youknowyoudeserveit.Stopfighting,sweetheart.Giveittome.”
Ididn’twanttofalloverthatedge.Ireallydidn’t.Butthosewordsworkedonmetoowell.TheyhitrightwhereIneededthem.
“That’sagoodgirl,”hedrawled,anarmdrawntightaroundmeasIshookandcried.“That’smygoodgirl.Thereyouare.”Hereleasedhisholdonmyclitandthatsuddenrushofbloodsetoffanotherwaveinsideme,onethathurtinaconfusinglyniceway.“Isthathowyou’replayingtonight?You’regivingmethedemonpussymagicrightnow?”
“I’mnotdoinganythingtoyou,”Isaid,mywordsaslooseandshudderingasthespasmsbetweenmylegs.
Hetouchedhisforeheadtomine,moanedoutabreath.Hishipspunchedupandhiseyelidsdriftedshut,andhepressedaroarintomyshoulder.Hejerkedagainstme,hisfingersflexinganddiggingintomyskinastheorgasmmovedthroughhim.“Yousuckedthesouloutofme,sweetheart.Ihopeyouputittogooduse.”
“Iwill.”Thesmilethatstretchedacrossmyfacewouldn’tquit.Itwasthebrightest,mostthoroughlypleasedI’dfeltinforever.Ididthis.Igavehimthatpleasure,thatjoy.Itcamefrommeandthethingswefoundwhenwecametogether,andIcouldprobablydoitagain.Therewassomethingpureandperfectaboutgettingoutofmymindandusingmybodytotearsomeonetoshreds.
Sebastianwasgoodatthat—gettingmeoutofmymind.BetterthanIwantedtoadmit.Heteasedandtorturedandchasedeverylastinhibitionoutofmewithbarelymorethanasharplybenteyebrow.ForthefirsttimeinfuckifIknew,Ifeltfreeinmybody.IfeltasthoughIcouldaskhimforanythingandnotonlywouldhegiveit,he’ddevourmebecausehewantedittoo.HelosthimselfinmybodylikeIwasatreasureratherthanamessyperfectionistwithasavageheartandanirritablegut.
LikeIwassomeoneworthkeeping.CHAPTER25SARA
SebastianStremmelwasonehellofacuddler.Hewasstraightupsnuggly,hisbodytuckedtightaroundmine.Hisscruffychinraspedagainstmyshoulder,hisbreathwarmonmyskin.Hewasthickandrigidwherehepressedintomybackside,andhishandrestedlowonmybelly.
ItwasawholelotofwonderfultowakeupthiswayexceptIdidn’tenjoyanyonetouchingmethere.Ilovedthatmybodydiditsdamnedesttocarrymethroughthislifeandkeepmegoing,thoughIdidn’tknowhowtolovethesoftandthesquishofthatspot.Especiallywhensomeoneelsetouchedit.Ididn’tmindhimseeingitandknowingitexisted,buttouchinglivedinadifferentclassofawareness.
“Whateveryouarethinkingabout,stop,”Sebastiangrumbled.
Imovedhishandtomythigh.Ihadn’tmadepeacethereeither,butmylegswereverystrongandIadmiredthat.Itwaslikethatstrengthhadearnedmetherighttoacceptmylegs,andIknewthatwaskindoffucked-up,butIalsoknewthatperfectionwasn’tthegoalofasaferelationshipwithmybody.Icouldholddifficult,complex,evenuncomfortablefeelings.Icouldmovehishandfromonespotwhilestillwantingiteverywhereelse.Icouldbemessy.Icoulddoallofthatandlovemyselfatthesametime.
“HowdoyouknowI’mthinkingaboutsomething?”
“Icouldbouncequartersoffthetensioninyourshoulders.Whatwasacozypillowafewminutesagoisnowahardbagofbones.”
Heshiftedhishandbacktomybelly.Ibatteditaway.
“What?”hesnapped.“You’rewarmandyourvaginaismadeoutofdevastatingmagic.Letmeholdyou.”
“Youcanholdme,justnotthere.”
“ButI’mobsessedwiththatspot,”heargued.
“ButIcan’tbecomfortablewhenyou’regrabbingmyfat.”
“No,Sara.No.We’renotdoingthat.Ifuckingmeanit.Softbelliesarethesexiestthingintheworld.”
“Pleasedon’t.It’sniceandwell-intentioned,but—”
“Nothingaboutmeiswell-intentioned.Orniceforthatmatter,”hesaidasheshiftedmyhairoffmyshoulder.“I’mtellingyouIfindthisoverwhelmingly,distractinglysexy.Thesethickthighstoo.I’msayingthisisbeautifultome.Ifuckingloveit.”
“But—whydoyouloveit?”
Herolledmetomyback,scowleddownatmelikeI’dreallyoffendedhim.“WhydoIneedareason?Whycan’tIjustloveit?”
“Becausenoonelovesabellyroll,”Isaid.“Anyonewhosaystheydoislying.”
“I’mnotlying,”hegrumbled.“IfIdidn’tthinkyou’dthrottleme,I’dputmyheadinyourlapeverytimewe’reonthecouchinMilana’soffice.”
“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?Youwon’tevensitnexttome!”
“BecauseIwanttoputmyheadinyourlap,youscreechylittleowl.Seriously,woman.You’rekillingmehere.Justonceitwouldbeniceifyou’dlistentowhatIactuallysaytoyou.”
Noneofthatseemedlikeagoodidea.Nothappening,thankyouverymuch.“Butlookatyou!Imean,youdon’thaveapudgybelly!”
“AmIsupposedtobeattractedtomyself?Ireallydon’tthinkthat’sthewayitgoes.Badlogic,Shap.”Hedraggedhislipsfromtheballofmyshoulderuptomyneck.“Iamattractedtoyou.SoattractedtoyouthatIcan’tthinkwhenIseeyou.Can’tevenspeak.AllIcandoisstarewhileyouwalkbywiththosenerdyt-shirtsandthighslikeafuckingwetdreamandthatchaosbun.”
“Youcalleditachaosbun,”Isaidtomyself,laughing.“Andyou’renotwrong.Dammit,youarenotwrong.”
“Howdoyoufitallthishairintoascrubcap?Ihavebeendyingtoknow.”
“IorderthemfromacreatoronEtsy,”Ireplied,hidingmygrininhisbicep.“Igetthemcustommade.Thechaosbunspecialorder.”
Hepassedhisfingersovermylowerabdomen.“Ilovethis,Sara.Ifuckin’loveit.”Heshiftedtotracethelineofmylegfrommyhiptomyknee.“ButIdon’thavetoifit’sgoingtostressyouout.”
Ilaythere,myheadswimmingwithrebuttalsbecausethiscouldnotbetrue.Itcouldnotbe.Noonewouldeverchoosetolovethis.
“Whattimedoyouhavetoleavefortheconference?”
Withmyfingertip,Idrewcirclesonhisarm.“Thepresentationsstartafterakeynotelunch,but…”IglancedupathimthoughIcouldn’tcatchhiseyesincehewasstillbusywithmybelly.“Idon’thavetogotoday.Tomorrowisessential,butIcangetoutoftodaywithoutissue.”
“Butyou’reagradeAgeek.Whywouldyouskipit?”
“Thecontentdoesn’tlineupwithmyinterests,”Isaid.Thatwasthemostmild,generouswayIcouldsayit.
“Then…whatareyoudoinghere?Didyouactuallyorchestratethis?DidyougetmyitineraryfromAcevedo’swife?DidErintellyouwheretofindme?”
“Erinhadnopartinthis,andlisten,Icanbarelymastermindmywaythroughaday.Forgetaboutinternationaltravel,”Isaidwithalaugh.“It’saplasticsconference,butit’sgearedmoretowardcosmeticsurgerythananythingIdo.”
“Letmeaskyouonemoretime:Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“It’sawholelongstorythatIdon’twanttodealwithrightnow.IcanpromiseyouIdidn’torchestratethis.Ifanyoneorchestratedanything,itwasprobablyyou.”
“Me?Hardly.Acouplemonthsback,Erinwouldn’tleavemealoneabouttakingtimeoff.ShemademehandoveracreditcardwhenIwasattheirplacefordinneronenightandbookedthiswholething.SheandNickcameherewithHartshornandhiswifelastwinter.Ididn’tevenknowwhereIwasgoinguntiltwohoursbeforeIleftfortheairport.”Hekissedthesideofmyneck,drewasmallshiverfromme.“You’regoingtoditchyourconferenceandhangoutwithmetoday?”
“Unlessthatscrewsupyourvacationvibes.”
“Myvacationvibesconsistofsittingonthebeach,rereadingabookIdon’tlike,anddebatingifit’stooearlytoorderabeer.Youwouldbeasubstantialimprovementtothosevibes.”
“Whatarewegoingtodo?”
“We’llfigureitout,”hesaid.“CanIaskyousomethingweird?”
“Thisisgoingtobeexciting,”Isaidflatly.
Hedraggedhisteethoverhisbottomlip,hisbrowsdrawntogether.“Doyoueveruseleeches?”
AlaughhootedoutofmeasIrolledawayfromhim.
Hecrawledoverme,flattenedmeonmybackwithhiskneestightagainstmyhipsandhishandsplantedbesidemyshoulders.“IsthiswhatIgetforaskingaboutyourpractice?Youlaughingyourassoff?Itcan’tbethatstrangeaquestion.”
“Strange,no.Butyou’vespenttwomonthsside-eyeingmyworkandnowyouwanttotalkaboutmymethodsofaddressingmicrovascularcongestion.No,thatmakesperfectsense.”
Hebentdown,nippedatmyjaw.“Willyoutellmethenexttimeyouusethem?I’veneverseenit.”
“Never?Howisthatpossible?”
Hetuckedhimselfintothespacebetweenmyearandshoulder.“Theydon’tletmeoutmuch.I’vespentthepastfifteenyearsparkedinemergencyandtrauma.”Hesuckedatmyskin,growlingdeepandlowlikeitwasthebestthinghe’devertasted.Then,“Howdoyoufeelaboutbreakfast?”
“Iamthepickiesteateryou’veevermetandeatingwithmewillmakeyoumiserable.You’llneverwanttogoanywherewithmeagain.”
“SeeingasI’mmiserableasabaseline,let’sgouptotherestaurant.Theyhaveahugebreakfastbuffet.Iateenoughforfivepeopleyesterday.You’llfindsomethingyoulike.ThenI’lldecidewhereIwanttogowithyou.”
“I’llprobablyfindapieceoftoastandsometea,andyouhavetosweartomeyouwon’tcommentaboutmeonlyeatingtoastwhenthere’severybreakfastitemintheknownworldavailabletome.ItmakesmeverytwitchywhenpeopleinvitethemselvestotalkaboutwhatIdoordonoteat,andeatingwhileanxiousfucksupeverythingforme.I’drathereatnothingthanendupwithrefluxallday.”
Hekissedthecornerofmymouth.“Iwon’tsayathing.Iswear.”
“Okay.Wecangetbreakfast,then.”Iranahanddownhisflank.“Assoonasyougetoffme.”
Hegrowledintomyneck.“Yeah,youmust’vemissedthepartwhereIgetyoubeforeIgetbreakfast.”
“You’vementionednothingofthesort.”
“Didn’tthinkitneededtobesaid.”Heshifted,rockinghisshaftagainstme.“Whatdoyouthinkaboutthatrainshoweroutside?”
Iglancedtothedoubledoorsleadingouttopatio.“Idon’tknow.Isitprivate?”
Hejerkedashoulderup.“Let’sfindout.”
Andthatwashowweendedupoutside,gigglingandnakedundertheshowerenclosedwithvines,hedges,andweathered,oldfencing.“I’veneverdoneanythinglikethis,”Iadmitted,myhandsonhischestaswatersluicedoverus.
Hewashardagainstmybelly,buttherewasnorush.We’drushedlastevening—andseveraltimesinthenight.Wedidn’thavetodothattoday.
“Can’tsayIhaveeither,”hesaid,awide,truesmileonhisface.
Thatwaswhatdiditforme.Thesmile.ItwassuchararesightfromhimthatIcouldn’thelpbutdroptomyknees.Afullbreathpassedbeforeheunderstoodmymeaningandthenhereachedforme,hishandscurlingaroundmyupperarmsandagrowlinhisthroat.
“No,no,no,”hesaid.“Sara.No.Getbackuphere.”
“Areyousayingyoudon’twantthis?”Iasked,wrappingmyhandaroundhislength.Whetherheintendedtoornot,hishipsjerkedforwardandhiscrowntappedmybottomlip.
“Iwon’thaveyougagging,”hesaid.
“Iknowmylimits.”Ibrushedmylipsoverhim,barelyatouch,andreceivedanothersharpjerkinresponse.Hewantedthis.Theagonizedgroanthatfollowedwasproof.“TrustmetotakecareofmyselfwhileItakecareofyou.”
Heshovedhisfingersintomyhair.“Promisemeyouwon’ttrytoswallow.”
Itookhimintomymouth,theluxuriousweightofhimheavyonmytongueandtheunbelievablestiffnessstretchingmylipswide,leavingmetohuminagreement.IstrokedhisbasehardasIworkedthehead,thewaterpouringoverusmakingeverythingsuperblyslippery.Theholdhehadonmyhairwasnotgentle,notatallkind,andtheferalgroansmovingthroughhimmatchedthat.
Islippedahandbetweenhislegsashemumbledastringofobscenitiesthatmadenosensethoughthewayhespokeit,likeaseriesofrough,unapologeticslapstotheass,wasexactlyright.Igavehisballsaminuteofmyattentionbeforeskimmingmyknucklesalonghiscrease.
Abreathshudderedoutofhimandhiscocksurgedintomyhand.Itastedwarmsaltonmytongue.“Fuuuuuck.SincewhendoIlikethat?”hegasped.
Hereacheddown,cuppedmyjaw.Withhisthumb,hetracedthestretchedlineofmylips.Ipeeredupathim,methisdark,hoodedgaze,andtraveledoverthatpleatedentranceagain.
“Ithinkit’syouIlike,”hewheezedashetookhalfastepback.“Fuck,Sara.I’m—oh,fuck,yes.Now.”
Ashethrustintomyfist,Istrokedhimhardwithbothhands,onetwistingoverhisheadandtheothertightaroundhisbase.Hecoveredthathandwithhis,angledhimselfawayfrommymouth.Foramanwhowasabouttocomeallovermytits,hewastoothoughtful.Toodamnconsiderate.Hewasn’tevenselfishwhenhewasgettingablowjobandthatsenttearstomyeyes.
Thiswouldbesomuchsaferformeifhewastrulyanasshole.
Hiseyeswidenedwhenthefirstspurthitmychest.Heswallowedthickly,hisgazeskatingbetweenmyhand,thepuddlebetweenmybreasts,andmyface.Atthesecondspasm,hegroanedoutaglorious“Fuuuuuuck”andreachedformyarm,buthedidn’thavethecoordinationtogetmeoffmyknees.IfIwasn’tbusyhidingmytearsinthesprayoftheshower,Iwould’velaughedatthat.Afterthefinalseriesofspurtshit,hemanagedtogetaholdofmyarmandyankedmetomyfeet.Hecrushedmeintoahugandheldmetohischest,hisfingersdoingwickedthingstomyclitwhilehemurmuredintomyearabouthowIwassogood,soverygood.
IfIcouldliveinthisrainshower—inthisperfectlittleminutewherenothingwaswrongandeverythingwasasitshouldbe—Iwould.I’dgiveupeverythingforthismomenttobemyliferatherthanoneaccidentallyhappymorning.
***
Sebastiangrabbedaplatefromthestackatthestartofthebuffetandextendedinmydirection,butsnatcheditbackatthelastsecond.“IknowIsaidIwouldn’tsayanythingbutIhaveonequestion.”
Igroaned,crossingmyarmsandslouchingintoasulk.“Youswore.”
“Yeah,IknowIdid.”Hemotionedtothemile-longbuffetsnakingaroundtheroom.“Canyoutellmeyourthoughtprocessasyougo?”
Ieyedhimskeptically.“YouwanttoknowwhyIchoosesomethingorskipit?”
Henodded,heldouttheplate.“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Hegrabbedaplateforhimself.“Becauseyou’vealreadybroughtmeintothecroutonsandcandiedgingercrazy.Whystopthere?”
“Allright,”Imuttered.“ButIdon’twantyouropinions.”
“We’llseehowIdowiththat,”hereplied,shufflingtowardthefirsttable.“I’massumingyou’reapainintheassabouteggs.”
“Andyou’dberight.”Igrimacedatthetraysinfrontofus.“EggsBenedictisafastnope.ThesauceistoorichformystomachandIdon’tdoham.Hard-boiledeggsareobnoxious.”
“Obnoxious?That’sbold.”
“They’rejustnotanoption.Soft-boiledcanbeokay,buthardareanightmare.Scrambledeggs,sometimes,butIhavetoseethem.Ican’torderthemoffamenu.Ihavetoconfirmthey’renottoorunny,toocheesy,tooherby.Anyofthatwouldbeabadidea.”Ireachedfortheservingspoon.“Icangivetheseatry.”
WhenIwasfinished,Sebastiantookthespoonfrommeandheapedscrambledeggsonhisplate.Itwasanactualheap.Atleastthreeeggscouldbeaccountedforinthatheap.“Youcouldbemoreofapainintheass.Iexpectedalotmorefromyou.”
“Justyouwait.”Ilaughedaswemovedtothenexttable.“Breakfastpotatoesbreakmydamnheart.Everytime.Iwantthemtoworkforme,buttheyarealmostalwayssautéedwithonionsandgarlic,whichisthequickestwaytoputtheirritableinirritablebowel.”
“Ew.”Theserverstationedbehindthetablecringedwithherentirebody.
“Sorry,”Isaidtoher.“Wehavenofilterwhenitcomestothesethings.”
“Withsomethings,wedo,”Sebastiansaid,staringatmylegs.“Notwithinflammatorygastricdiseases.”
“Thisiswhywecan’tgoplaces,”Isaidtohim.
“Wecan’tgoplacesbecauseyou’repicky.Don’tchangethegamewhilewe’replayingit.”Hehookedhishandinthecrookofmyelbow.“So,nopotatoesforyou,”hesaid,depositingsomeonhisplate.“Betwe’reskippingthesausageandbacontoo.”
“Ican’teventhinkaboutsausage,”Isaid,movingaheadtothebreadsandpastries.“Thatkindofgreaseisterribleforme,buttheideaofsausage—no.”Myshoulderspitchedupasmystomachtwisted.Ihadtopressahandtomymouth.“Ican’teventhinkaboutit.”
“Donotcauseyourownproblems,Shap,”hecalled.“Wearenotdoingthattoday.”
“AllofthisisaproblemI’vecaused,”Isaid.“It’snotlostonmethattherewardfortwentyyearsofdisorderedeatingisalifetimeofdisorderedeating,butnowit’smandatory,andinsteadofcountingcarbsIcountdriedcranberriessoIdon’toverdoitonacid,allbecauseofwhatIdidtomyselfinthosetwentyyears.”
“I’mallforwallowinginmisery,butyougottaknockthatshitoff,”hesaid.“Weallfuckourselvesupinamilliondifferentways.Thatwelivetotellaboutitisthereward.”
“Areyoualwaysthismoralinthemorning?”
Hedraggedhisgazefrommysandalstomyshortsanduptomyloosetop.“Notalways,”hesaid.
SinceIdidn’tknowwhattodowiththatheavystare,Igavethepastriesathoroughstudy,usingapairoftongstopeeratitemsIdidn’timmediatelyrecognize.“Noneofthis,”Isaid,waggingthetongs.“IfI’mnotreasonablycertainoftheingredients,there’snowayI’mtouchingit.That’showIgetfuckedoverbysneakycitrus.”
Sebastianstaredatthesmallhelpingofscrambledeggonmyplate.“Onemorequestion.No,no,it’snotgoingtogiveyouanxiety,”hesaidwhenIglaredathim.“Calmdown.Ijustwanttoknowwhatyouusuallyeatinthemorningifthisistheonlythingyou’vechosensofar.”
“Two,please.”Igesturedtothebasketofwhitebreadandtheserverdroppedtheslicesintothetoaster.“Youknowwhenyou’reyoungandyougetstupiddrunkonsomethinglikeJ?gerorsomesillykindofschnapps?Andyoupukeupyourskeletonthenextday?Andforeverafterthat,youcan’tgonearthatalcoholbecauseifyouevensmellit,you’llrememberthetraumaofvomitingupyourentireribcage?That’showitisformewith,well,shit,everything.Thelistoffoodsthatdonothavetraumaticmemoriesattached—self-inflictedorotherwise—isshort.Thatleavesmewithoatmeal,porridge,yogurt,poachedeggs.Maybesomestewedapples.Rawapplesrequireatonofenergytodigest.There’salotoftoast.”
Hereachedforanalmondcroissant,bitintoitwhileIwentoninspectingthebakedgoods.
Ipointedatabasketofgrainybread.“Toomuchgoingonhere.Iloveit,actually,butallthoseseedswouldmakemybellygurgleforatleasttwodays.Doyouhaveanyideawhatit’slikehavingagurglybellyfortheentiretyofaten-hoursurgery?It’sanexperimentinseeinghowmanytimesIcansay,‘It’sfine.Don’tworry.Really,it’sfine.No,Idon’tneedanything.Justignoreit.’”
“You’renotpicky.You’respecific.There’sadifference.”
“Pickyisasimplerwordforit,”IsaidaswemovedtowardtheFrenchtoastandBelgianwaffles.Hechoseoneofeach.
“Okay,whataboutfruit?Ruinmydayandtellmewhatyouhateaboutallofthese.”
“Iloveraspberries,buttheseedsareadisaster.Ican’tevenlookatblueberrieswithoutgettingreflux.Melonandpineapplearegoodinsmallquantities.Samewithmangoandpapaya.GuavaandIdon’tgetalong.Bananasaresupposedtobesafebutarenot,andgrapesfuckmeup.”Iaddedafewstrawberriestomyplatealongwithsomecantaloupe.“Plainyogurtwithhoneyismybetter-daybreakfast.Italwaysdoesmerightafterabadday.”
HeinspectedthecartonofyogurtIselected.“Okay.Igetit.”
Itrailedmyfingertipoverthearrayoftinyjarsofhoney.Ipointedacrosstheroom,totheopen-airdeckfarawayfromthemingledscentsofroastedmeatsandfryingegg.“Let’ssitoutthere.”
Afterwesettledatthetable,Sebastianglancedatmefromunderthosethicklashes.“Wasthatokay?Diditmakeyouanxious?”
“Nottoomuch.”Iopenedthejarofhoney,gaveitasniff.Thesmellofhoneyalwaysmademehappy.“Iknowitlookscrazyanditprobablysoundscrazy,butIdon’tfeelcrazywhenI’mincontrolofmyoptions.IcancomebackheretomorrowbecauseIknowIcanhavetoastandthere’syogurtalongwithsomeofthefruitsIlike.Eveniftheseeggsdon’tworkout,otheritemswill,andthenIknowIdon’thavetoobsessoverhowtogetthroughsomethingasbasicasbreakfast.”
Whenaserverswungbythetable,Sebastianorderedjuiceandcoffeeforhimselfandhotteaforme.
Whenshesteppedaway,Iadded,“Ithelpedthatyouweren’tagiantassholeaboutit.Iwaspreparedforthat.”
PouringsyrupoverhisFrenchtoast,heasked,“Wereyoupreparedbecauseyouexpectmetobeanassholetoyouorbecauseyouhaveexperiencewithpeoplebeinganassholewhenyoutrytotellthemwhatyouneed?”
Ispearedatinyamountofeggsontomyfork.“Littlebitofboth.”
HewatchedwhileIsampledtheeggs,gavemeaquestioningnod.Iwiggledmyshouldersinresponse.Theywereallright.Notmyfavorite,butnotbad.Then,hesaid,“I’msorry.”
“Don’tbesorry,”Isaid,andImeantit.Ididn’tknowwhatitwasaboutthiscease-fire,butInolongerfeltlikehewasdoingsomethingtome.Rather,weweredoingthistoeachother.AndIdidn’tfeelasthoughIhadtoprotectmyselffromeverything.“Imean,youcanbewhateveryouwant,butyoudon’thavetoapologizeforthat.Foranyamountofassholeyou’vegivenme,I’vegivenyouragingbitchrightback.”
Hejabbedhisforkinmydirection.“Don’tsaythat.”
“No,it’sokay.Thatwordiscomplicated,butit’snotcomplicatedforme.Iknowwhatitmeanstomeandforme,”Iinsisted,tappingahandtomychest.“It’sprobablytimeIexplaintoyouthatIhavetheheartofasavagebitchandI’mquiteproudofher.Shetellstheperfectionistinmyheadwhentositdownandshutup,andshemakesmestanduptotraumasurgeonswhothinktheonlyappropriatemethodofclosureisastaple.”
Hestaredatmewithaslightsmile,hischinrestingonhispalm.“IsthatwhoIhavetothank?”
Irubbedahandtomysternum.Awarmpressureseemedtobuildthere.Itheatedmycheekstoo.“Yes.”
“YoushouldknowIlikeher.Alot,”headded.“Ilikeitwhenyoushowmehowstrongyouare.Ithinkyoulikeittoo.Youjustdon’tthinkyoushould.”
I’dalwaysknowntherewassomethingoddinherentintalkingaboutthesepartsofmyselfasiftheyweredisembodiedpeoplewhosevoicesIhappenedtohear,butithelpedmeisolatetheoriginsofallmyconflictedemotions.Ithelpedmetoseetheperfectionistasakidwhodesperatelyneededsomethinginherlifetobesafeandthesavageasanangsty,rage-filledteenagerwhorefusedtobemisunderstood.Ithelpedtocleaveallthosefeelingsintotwopartsandhearthemseparately.
ForalltheyearsI’dlivedwiththatknowledge,I’dneveroncefeltthesingularglowofsomeonechoosingthemessiest,mostvolatilepartofmeastheoneworthtreasuring.Thegoodgirlgotalltheattention.Sheaskedfornothinganddideverything,makinghersodamneasytolove.Butthatlovewasshallow.Itwasankle-deeplove,thekindthatdriftedinandoutwiththetides.Ittookfrommemorethanitgave.Itdidn’tmatteranditdidn’tlast.
Notthatthiswaslove.Thiswas…acease-fire.Areprieve.Amomentwherewedidn’tcapitalizeoneveryopportunitytotormenteachother.
Thiswasnotaboutlove.Notevenclose.
“You’reright.Idon’tthinkIshouldletmysavagebitchoutthatoften,”Ireplied,dippingmyspoonintotheyogurt.“Ican’tliveeverydaylikeit’sbubblesuitjoustingday.”
“Weshoulddothatagain,”hemused.“MaybeI’llwinthenexttimearound.”
“Don’tgetyourhopesup.”
Hedraggedhisgazeoverme,slowandscowly.“Toobad.Alreadyhave.”
***
Itwasthecomfortable,pleasantkindofhumidhereontheisland,thesunwashighandbrightwithoutbeingtoointense.Theoceanwascloseenoughtoprovidealight,hammock-napkindofsoundtrackandsoft,palesandwasonlyafewstepsawayfromthepatiooutsidemybungalow.
Foronce,Sebastianhadnotasinglecomplaintabouttheweather.
Thatdidnotmeanhewasfreeofallcomplaints.
Ipushedmysunglassestothetopofmyheadandglancedoverathim.HehadtheendofahighlighterbetweenhisteethashefrownedatanarticleintheJournalofEmergencyMedicine.Itwasthetypeoffrownthatcouldmeanhedisagreedvehementlyorhewasheadoverheelsforthecontent.Anyone’sguess.
“I’mgettingadrink,”IsaidasIcrossedthepatiointothebungalow.“Doyouwantanything?”
Withapartinggrimaceforthejournal,heasked,“Whatdoesthatmeaninyourworld?TheonlythingI’veeverseenyoudrinkisweakteaandwater.”
“Icandrinkmellowwhitewinesandbeersthataren’ttoosourorhoppy,butIusuallypassunlessI’mfeelingreallygood.”Ileanedagainstthedoor.“Iaskedtheresorttostockthefridge,soI’msurethere’ssomethingforyouinthere.”
“Ineverwould’vethoughttoaskforthat,”hemurmured.
“Yeah,ifthere’sonethingI’velearnedfrommymother,it’showtotravelcomfortably.”Ihookedathumbtowardthebungalow.“CanIgrabsomethingforyou?”
“Unlessit’scroutonsandcrystalizedginger,I’mgoodwithwhateveryou’rehaving.”
Inside,Ipouredmyselfaglassofwaterandselectedabeerfromtheassortmentinthefridge.IwasabouttoreturntothepatiowhenIspottedapaperbackbookonthetableneartheentrance.Itdidn’tlooklikeanyoftheotherbookstuckedintotheshelvesaroundthebungalowanditwasjustsittingthereontheedgeofthetableasifsomeonehadforgottenaboutit.
Withthebooktuckedundermyarm,Iwalkedouttothepatio.“Isthisyours?”Iasked,holdingitup.
Sebastianacceptedthebeerbottle,saying,“Oh.Yeah.”
Iglancedatthecover.“You’rereadingTheChroniclesofNarnia?Theallegoricalfantasyserieswrittenforsmallchildren?”
Heheldupahand.“Icanexplain.”
“Icannotwaittohearthis.”Isettledintotheloungechairbesidehim.“Please.Don’tleavemeinsuspense.”
Heranahandthroughhishair,sighinglikeahighlyinconveniencedteenager.“IfoundacopyofTheLion,theWitchandtheWardrobeintheERonenight.Itwasduringthetimewheneverydaywashellanditjustdidn’tgetbetter.WhenIdidn’tleavethehospitalfordays.Theworldwasterrifyinganditwasn’tlikeIcouldsleep,soIreadabook.”
“Andyou’restillreadingit?”
“No.Imean,obviously,yes,butIdon’tlikeit.Ihavesomanyproblemswiththisstory.Idon’tevenknowwheretostartwithmyproblems.”
Imurmuredinagreement.“Yeah,thatdoesseemtobeathemewithyou.”
“You’reluckyyou’resocute,”hesaidwithasidelonggrin.“IreadthefirstbookandIhadtoseehowitturnedout,soIreadtheothersix.”
“Thatisaseriouscommitmentforastoryyoudon’tlike.”
“There’salotIdon’tlike,buttherewasathreadrunningthroughallthebooksthatjust—Idon’tknow.There’ssomethingthatstuckwithme.”
“Iwanttohearaboutthestickypart.”
Heflippedthroughthepagesforaminute.“It’saboutthesekidswhowalkedthroughthebackofaclosetintoanewworld.Theyhadnoideawhatwaswaitingforthemontheotherside.Nothingcould’vepreparedthem.They’rethrownintoit.Theyhavetotakesidesandfightwars—andthentheyhavetogohome.Theyclimboutoftheclosetandgobacktotheiroldlivesasifnothinghadhappened.Asifthey’dbeenplayinginthebackyardallthattime.Theycouldn’ttellanyonewherethey’dbeenorwhatthey’dseen.Theycouldn’ttalkaboutthelossesthey’dexperiencedorthewaysthewarchangedeverythingaboutthem.Theyhadtostareoutattheworldthrougheyesthathadwitnessedallthesethingsand—andactliketheywerethesamekidswho’dgoneintothatcloset.”
Iwrappedbothhandsaroundmyglass.Thathitclosetohome.“Whoa.”
Hebobbedhishead.“LikeIsaid,therewasalotofmaterialIdidn’tenjoy,buttherewasanarteryoftruthinthere.Thesubtlepartaboutlivingthroughawarandcomingoutofitchanged,yetnothavinganywheretoputallofthatchange,hookedmehard.Istartedgoingbacktothebooksjusttopressthatarteryagain.Iguessthat’sthechoice,right?CuttheoxygentomybrainorkeepwonderingifI’mcrazy.”
Ididn’thavethewordstomakeanyofthisright.Insteadoftryingtodothat,Isetmyglassaside,pluckedthebookandtheabandonedjournalfromhim,andtuckedmyselfinbesidehimontheloungechair.
“Yougetit,”hemurmured,hishandonthebackofmyhead.
Inoddedagainsthischest.“Ido.”
Hewasquietforaminute,thenhebrushedhislipsovermyhair.“Thanks.”CHAPTER26SEBASTIAN
FromthebedthatIwasstillhopingshe’dreturnto,IwatchedasSarabuzzedaroundthebungalow.Sheworeafluffywhitebathrobethatbrushedthefloorbecauseshewasalittleteapotandshehadherhairtwistedupinahotpinkmicrofibertowelthatshe’dbroughtwithherfromhome.
Itwasaluxurytowatchherpreparefortheday.Iwould’veforkedovereverycenttomynamejustfortheprivilegeofwatchingherapplymoisturizertoherentirebodyonemoretime.
Whensheswitchedonthehairdryer,Iresignedmyselftothefactshewasn’tcomingbacktobed.IwanderedaroundthebungalowinmyboxersandreadtheheadlinesonmyphonewhileImademyselfsomecoffeeandheatedwaterforhertea
Butthenaneruptionofnoisesoundedfromthebathroom—acrash,aslam,asnarl—andthehotpinktowelflewoutthedoorasIapproached.Ifoundherwithherhandsbracedontheedgeofthelongmarblevanity,thehairdryeronthefloorandaloadofmakeupspreadoutbeforeher.
“What’shappeninginhere?Arewehavingatinytornadomoment?Pleasedon’tbreakthewindows.Idon’twanttogetthrownoutofheretoday.”
“Don’tbeanassholetomerightnow.Ican’tdothatwithyouthismorning.”
Sheshovedhershouldersback,heldahandclosetothehairstraightenertocheckthetemperature.Iknewthatbecausemysisterhadthesameone.Vivialsohadaseriesofsmallburnsonherforeheadfromit.Themajorityofourvideocallconversationsinvolvedthatstraightenerinsomecapacity.Ididnottrustthatstraightener.
“Thenwe’rethrowingtowelsandsmallappliancesjustbecauseit’sfun?I’mcoolwiththat,bytheway.Justloopmein.Icanthrowtowelstoo.Watch.”Iyankedabathtowelfromtheshelf,tosseditovermyshoulder.“Didyouseethat?”
“Nowyou’rejustbeingadickhead.”
“See,Idon’tthinkthat’saccurate,”Iargued.“Ithinkdickheadisalittletoostrongforthesituation,no?Dickheadimpliessomedegreeofmalice.Ijustwanttothrowshitwithyou.Idon’twanttobeleftout.Nomalicethere.”
“Isthiswhatanervousbreakdownfeelslike?I’vealwayswondered.”
Ipacedtowardher,setmyhandsonherwaist,methereyesinthemirror.“Youarenothavinganervousbreakdown.Tellmewhat’shappening.”
“Iamfreakingout.Okay?That’swhat’shappening.”Sheedgedmeawaysoshecouldcontinuewithherhair.“Anervousbreakdownforbreakfast,aplasticsconferenceforlunch,andafreshnewdisasterfordinner.Perfect.Bestdayever.”
“Canyoutellmewhyyou’refreakingout?BecauseIdon’tgetit.”
Sherolledherfreehand,saying,“Myfather’sgoingtobeatthisconference.”
“And…youdon’twishtoseehim?”
“Actually,no,butthat’snottheproblem,”shesaidwithabitterlaugh.“Everyoneelsewantstoseehimandtheyaregoingtoswarmandtramplemeintheprocess.”
“Sara.Whatthefuck?”
“Yeah,it’salwaysanightmare.”
“Okay,so,I’mgoingwithyou,”Isaid,steppingintoyesterday’sshorts.
“No,you’renot.That’snotnecessary.Icandealwithit.Ijusthateit.YouknowIhatebeingaroundalotofrandompeople,andwhenyouaddthefactthey’reusingmeforaccesstomyfather,it’sevenmoreunpleasant.”
“Holdup.Whatarewetalkingabout?I’mgonnaneedalotmoreinformation.ExplainittomelikeI’machild.Simpleterms.”
Shesetthestraightenerdownandblinkedatme.“Youdon’tknow.”
“No,honey,Idon’t.What’sgoingon?”
“Myfather,he’sRossShapiro.HeownsUniversityImageClinic.Theplasticsurgerycenterwithforty-eightoutpatientlocationsupanddownCalifornia.MybrotherjustopenedanewlocationinScottsdalelastsummer.Mymother’sbusyworkingonMaui.That’stheofficialreasonshe’sbeenthereforthepastyearandahalf.Theunofficialreasonisprobablytwenty-fiveandafitnessinfluencerwhohopesshe’sgoingtoinvestinhispersonaltrainingbusiness.Sheprobablywill,justasmyfatherwillkeepallhistwenty-two-year-oldsidepieceswithmorethanenoughcashintheirpockets.”
“Holyshit.”Ipressedahandtomymouthbecauseyeah,I’dheardoftheplasticsurgerymogul,butI’dneverconnectedthatdottoSara.AllthetimesI’dheardloosereferencestoherfather,Iassumeditwassomethinginthelegacyadmissionsandfamilymoneyveins.NeverhadImadethejumpfromSara,thesurgeoninthefirstfloorapartment,tothemanwhodominatedWestCoastcosmeticsurgery.And,well,neverinamillionyearswouldIhaveguessedtherest.“Holyshit.”
“That’safairassessment.”Shewentbacktorunningherhairthroughthestraightener.“Iassumedyouknew.Everyoneknows.It’sthethingthatwalksintoaroomaheadofme.”
“Ididn’t.Idon’treallypayattentiontothethingspeoplesay.”
“Thenyouknowwhattheysay,”shesaid.
“Notreally,”Iadmitted.“TheonlypeopleIreallytalktoareAcevedo,Emmerling,andHartshorn.AcevedowasfuckingthrilledwhenwesnaggedyoufromNewYork.”
“Snaggedme,”sherepeated.“That’sfunny.IleftNewYorkbecausemydad’scollegeroommatewasappointedChiefofSurgery.HisfirstactofbusinesswastellingmethatmyfatherwantedmetomovebacktoCaliforniaandworkwithhimwithintheyear,andhewantedtohelpmyfatherwiththatinanywayhecould.”
“Whatadick.”Ileanedagainstthedoorframe.“Youneverplannedongoingintothefamilybusiness,Itakeit.”
Shelaughed,buttherewasnohumortoit.“Plasticswasn’tmyfirstchoice.”
“Whatwas?”
“Anythingelse,”shesaid.“Igrewupinaworldbuiltonbodydysmorphia.Ididn’twanttokeepdoingthat.Ididn’twanttofixpeoplewhodidn’tneedfixing.Ididn’teventhinkIwantedtogointosurgery.”
“Then…whatchanged?”
Anotherharshlaugh.“MyfatherrefusedtopayformedschoolunlessIcommittedtoplasticsurgery.Icalledthatbluffonesemesterandhadtoaskmygrandmotherforhelp,butshe’dalreadybeenwarnedoff.Itdidn’toccurtomebackthenthatIcouldtakeoutloanslikeeveryoneelseandjusttellhimtofuckoff.”Shebrushedoutasectionofhair,startedonanother.“Eventually,Idid.Iwentafterareconstructivesurgeryfellowship.Thewayhetellsit,hegotmeintothatfellowship.Thetruthis,hethreatenedtohavemeremovedfromthefellowshipandreassignedtosomethingmorequote-unquotesuitable.Thedeanofthatprogramwasafriendfromhisresidency.MyfathersworeitwasonlyamatterofmakingacallandIsworeIwouldn’tspeaktohimeveragainifhedidthat.Thedeanpulledmeintohisoffice,saidhehadaspotformeinadifferentprogram.ThatwasthelasttimeItookapennyfrommyfamilyandwe’vebarelyspokensincethen.”
“Butyoucamehere,”Isaid.“Toaconferencethatdoesn’tinterestyou.”
Shestaredatherreflectioninthemirror.“Icametokeepthepeace.Iknowhowfucked-upitsounds,butdoingthisoneuncomfortablethingwillbuymeacoupleyearsofdistance.”
“I’llgowithyou,”Isaid.
Shetossedadampwashclothatmyhead.“There’snoreasontodothatandyou’llbeannoyedtheminuteyouwalkinbecausenooneistalkingaboutcollapsedlungs.Ijustneedthechancetofreakoutbeforehandandgetitoutofmysystem.I’llbefine.”
Iaimedthewashclothatherhip.“I’dlikeyoutobebetterthanfine.”
Shesuckedherbottomlipbetweenherteeth,glancingbetweenmeandherreflectionforamoment.Then,“Theconferenceisn’tthatbad.It’salotofsocialinteractionforme,butonceI’mthereandinthegrooveofsmilingandnodding,itpassesquickly.Ifyoureallywanttodosomething,youcouldcometodinnerwithustonight.”
Iwatchedasshebrushedoutthelastsectionofherhair.ShelookedlikeanentirelydifferentwomanwithoutthewildhairI’dalwaysexpectedfromher.Thiswasatransformation,butnotforanyofthereasonsI’dassumed.Shewasputtingonhergameface.Herhairwassmoothandgolden,thelinesinherforeheadwerefrozen,andtherewereenoughproductstomakeherfaceflawless.Itworkedexactlythewayarmorwasintended.Exceptshedidn’tneedanyofthis.Didshehavenoideahowstrongshewasonherown?Didn’tsheseeit?
Ifshedidn’t,I’dhavetoseeitforher.“I’llbethere.”
***
Ididn’tknowwhattodowithmyselfwithoutSara.
Iatebreakfast,readtwonewspapers,andswamintheocean,allbeforenoon.Atthatpoint,IwasboredasfuckandhalfconvincedIneededtogetmyselftothisconference.Itwasn’tlikeIcouldsitonthebeachtherestoftheday.Whatwasthepoint?Ididn’twanttosittherealone.Ididn’twanttobeherealone.Notafterknowingwhatitwasliketobeherewithher.Ididn’tevenenjoybreakfastwithoutherrunningcommentaryontheoffensesofblueberries.
Afterlunch,IreadafewmorechaptersofNarnia.Thosefuckingkids.Whenreadingdidn’tdistractmeanymore,Iwentforawalk.Icalleditawalk.Inmyhead,itwasawalk.SomemightsayIpacedinfrontoftheresortentrancefortwohoursbecauseIwantedtoseeSaratheminuteshearrivedandconfirmformyselfthatshewasallright,butitwasawalk.
Whensheemergedfromthetaxi,shelookedmeoverwithalaugh.“Whatisthisabout?”
“I’mtakingawalk,”Isaid,foldingherintomyarms.“Youjusthappenedtopullup.”Ipressedakisstoherneck.“How’ditgo?”
“Ugh.Fine.Whatever.”Shedroppedherheadtomychest,lethershoulderssag.“Ineedtochange.Ican’twearthistotherestaurant.”
Sarawasquietaswereturnedtothebungalow.Shestrippeddowntoherbraandpanties,andpinnedherhairawayfromherfacetofreshenhermakeup.SinceIwasphysicallyincapableofleavingherside,Ileanedagainstthevanityandwatched.
“Here’swhat’sgoingtohappentonight,”shesaid,makeupbrushinhand.“Thisiswhatwillgodown.He’llbethemostwarm,charmingpersonintheworldifhe’sinthemoodforit.Ifnot,he’lljustmakesureeveryoneknowshe’svery,verybusyandvery,veryimportant.Thecellphoneneverleaveshishand.”
“Youdon’thavetoprepme,”Isaid.“I’llmanagejustfine.”
“Heknowseveryone,everywhere,”shecontinued,“andtheinconvenientfactofthematteristhatmanyofthosepeoplewillthrowthemselvesinfrontoftrafficifitgetsthemafewminuteswithhim.Hereallydoesknoweveryone,sohecanshootatextandgetsomeoneaninterview.Hecanconnectyouwithsomeonewhowantstodevelopanewtoolorprocedureorhecanhookyouupwithsomeonewhoalreadyhasthenewesttoolsoyoucanlearnhowtouseit.Hehasatonofmoneyandheknowspeoplewithtonsoftheirownmoney,andheadorestheattentionthatcomeswiththatpower.”
Inodded.“Iknowthetype.”
“AndeverythingwillbegreatandfantasticuntilhemakesacommentabouthowtherestaurantsceneinBostonmustbeoutstandingbecauseI’mlookingsowell-fed,”shesaid.“OrthatthehospitalmustbeworkingmetoohardbecauseIseemtired.OrImustbestrugglingtofindexcitingcasessincehehasn’theardanythingthroughallhischannelsandnetworks.It’salwayssomethingbackhandedlikethat,somethingthatshowsupasconcern,butit’sactuallybullshitatthecenter.”
Ifoldedmyarmsovermychest.Nodded.Iwasn’tlettingthathappen.
“So,I’llsittherewhilehepleasantlyinformsmethatmyworkisawasteoftimeandmyhospitalisgarbageandmychoicesaredumb,andIwon’tevenbeabletolookathim.I’llstareatmyplatefortwohoursbecauseevenatthirty-ninefuckingyearsold,IknowI’llcrackinhalfifIhavetowatchhimtellmethatI’mallwrong.I’llnodalonglikeI’magreeingwithhimbecausearguingissomuchworse,thoughit’snotlikeI’meverabletoargueinthemoment.EvenwhenIpreparemyselfforthesesituations,Idon’thavetherightresponsesattheready.Theydisappear.It’slikeI’mhelpless.Likeachildwhocan’tstopandsay,‘Whothefuckdoyouthinkyou’retalkingto?’”
“ThenI’llrespond.I’llhandleit.”
Shepoppedatabletinhermouth,washeditdownwithwater.“Youdon’thavetodothat.”
“I’magreatbuffer,”Isaid.“Idon’tgettobethebuffertoooftenthesedays,butI’mverygoodatit.Icantellyou’renotinanyconditiontohearastoryaboutmymotherandsisteroraboutmychiefresidentandeveryotherresidentinthebuilding,butsufficeittosay,Icansoakupallthetoxicityaroundmeandspititoutwithonlyadashofpassive-aggression.”
“Youbreathepassive-aggression.”Shepushedanothertabletoutofablisterpack.“Butyoucanbemybuffer.”
Igesturedtothepills.“Areyouallright?”
“I’mtryingtobebutmygutdoesn’tdealwellwiththiskindofstress.”Sheuncappedabottle,shookanothertabletintoherpalm.“We’llseehowwellitworks.”
“Justformyreference,whoamItoyou?”Iasked.“Tonight.”
Andalways?
“He’snotgoingtoask,”shereplied.“Heonlycaresaboutproximitytopower.”
“Right.”Islippedmyhandsintomypockets.“It’sgoodweclearedthatup.”
Wetookataxitotherestaurantontheothersideoftheisland.Itwasclosetothehotelwheretheconferencewastakingplace,andastheminutestickedby,Icouldseethetensionbuildinginsideher.Shekepthergazefixedonherlapwhilesheranthepadofherthumboverhernails.Ididn’tthinkIcouldremembereverseeinghernailspolishedbefore.Iwould’veremembered.
Whenwesteppedoutofthetaxi,Ibroughtmyhandstohershouldersandsteeredherawayfromtheentrance.
“Wherearewegoing?”sheyelped.
“Overhere,”Isaid.“Justforaminute.”
“We’regoingtobelate.”
“It’sjustaminute.”Onceweweretuckedawaybehindatree,Iturnedhertofacemeandliftedmyhandstoherjaw.“Ineedyoutolistentomenow.Listen.BestrongformelikeIknowyoucan,andwhenyoucan’tbestronganymore,you’llletmedoitforyou.”
Shegaveaquick,unconvincingnod.Then,“Don’tmessupmyface.”
“Iwillmessupyourface,”Ireplied.“Whatdoyouthinkwe’redoingwhenwe’redonehere?”Itookherhand,squeezedittoremindherthatshedidn’thavetoletanyonemakehersmall.“I’vebeenthinkingaboutbendingyouoverthatbedallday.Ifoundafootstoolsoyoucanreach,littlebit.Iplanontestingitoutlater.Justkeepthatinmind.”
Sherolledhereyes.“Yeah.That’sexactlywhatIneedtothinkaboutrightnow.”
“It’sbetterthananythingelseyou’rethinking.”Irestedmyhandonherlowerback.“Comeon.Let’sdothis.”
WemadeourwaythroughtherestaurantandfoundDr.Shapiroseated,hisattentionfixedonhisphone.
“Dad,”shesaid,standingbesidethetablelikeshewasn’tconvincedsheshouldsit.
Ihatedthathesitance.Hatedthewayshetwistedherfingerstogether,hatedhowsheshrankinthefaceofhisindifference.WherewasthewomanwhorippedafuckingcurtainfromtheceilingbecauseIdaredtodismisshercriticism?Wherewasshe?Andwhothefuckwasthisguytochaseherawaywithnothingmorethanthechillofhispresence?
Ididn’tfuckingknow,butIwasreadytoscoopherupandgetthehelloutofhereifitcontinued.Icouldbetheassholeinthissituation.Ihadnoproblemwiththat.
Themanfinishedtypingbeforelookingupathisdaughter,andthatwasallIneededtoknowabouthim.Thatwasfuckingit.
“Sara,”heboomed,pushingtohisfeet.“Iwasbeginningtothinkyou’dforgotten.”Hefoldedherintoahugwhilecatchingmyeyeoverhershoulder.“She’salwaysbeensuchascatterbrain.”
Whatafuckingasshole.
“Dad,thisisSebastianStremmel.Itoldyouabouthimearlier.He’sthetoptraumasurgeonatMassachusettsandthenextChiefofEmergencySurgery.”
Iacceptedhisoutstretchedhand.“Thepartaboutemergencysurgeryistrue.ThepartaboutSarabeingascatterbrainisnot.Can’tsayI’veeverseenherlessthancompletelycomposed.”
“Thenyouaren’tlookingveryhard,Dr.Stremmel,”hesaid,thewordscrackingintoachuckle.
SaragavemeIwarnedyoueyes.Ishrugged,givinghermythisdoesn’tscaremescowl.
Asshe’dpromised,theoldermanaskednothingofourrelationshiporevenwhyIwashereinJamaica.Instead,helaunchedintoalongstoryaboutbumpingintoanothersurgeon,someonewho’doncebeensomethingofarivalandnowwantedDr.Shapiro’sassistance.
“That’salwayshowitgoes.Theyalwayscomebackaround,”hesaid,motioningtotheserverwithhisemptytumbler.“Anotherbourbonontherocks,splashofsoda,andsomethingforthekids.”Heranatight,impatientgrinoverSara.“Youlooklikeyoucoulduseadrink.WhatdoIalwaystellyou?Youneedtolightenup!”Heleanedtowardme,hiselbowonthetable,hisfistunderhischin,aconspiratorialglintinhiseyeslikeIwasthekindofdickheadwho’djoinhiminslamminghisdaughter.“Alwaysserious,thisone.You’dthinktheworld’sendingeveryday.Can’tevenscareasmileoutofher.”
Whatafuckingasshole.
Ipulledmymostconfusedexpression.“Youthinkso?Huh.”Igratedmyknucklesdownmyjaw.Sarapassedahandoverherlipstohideagrin.“Idon’tseethatatall.”
Sincethatwasn’twhathe’dexpected,heforcedasmirkandwentbacktohisphonewhileSaraandIorderedabottleofwineapiece.Bottlesbecausethisplacewastooclassytobotherwithwinebytheglass,butalsobecauseorderingafinebottlewasasbigapowermoveasanythingwithrichguyslikethis.EvenbourbondrinkerswhocouldprobablybuytheentireislandofJamaica.
Whentheserversteppedaway,Dr.Shapiroedgedtowardmeagain,renewedinterestinhiseyesbecauseI’dobviouslyleveledupwiththatwineorder.“Mygolfbuddylikesthatvintage,”hesaid.“MortySpeeback.Handsitouttohisstaffaroundtheholidays.Theydon’tunderstandwhatthey’regetting,don’trespectthequality,butyoucan’ttalkhimoutofit.I’msureyou’veheardofDr.Speeback,Dr.Stremmel.OneofthebestheartsurgeonsinOrangeCounty.”
“Ifyouknowcardioguys,youmustknowCalHartshorn.”IglancedatSara,expectinghertochimein,butshegaveaslightshakeofherhead.“He’soneofthebestinthecountry.”
Dr.Shapiropickeduphisphone,readanotificationatthetopofthescreen.“Can’tsaythatIhave.”
Aftertheservercorkedandpoured,Ireachedfortheglassofwineinfrontofme.“Heworkedonthatprofootballcoachafewyearsback.Lotsofpresscoverageforthatone.Icouldn’tgoadaywithoutseeingHartshorn’sfacealloverESPN.”ItappedmyglasstoSara’s.“He’sabigfanofSara’s.”
“Asheshouldbe,”Dr.Shapiroreplied.“She’salsooneofthebest.Massachusettsisluckytohaveher.”
Inanyotherconversation,hiscommentswould’velandedwithprideandadmiration.Inthisshitshow,theyresembledbothinadequacy—beingthebestwasthebareminimum—andanaccusation—ourhospitalhadsomethingtheydidn’tdeserve.Itwasremarkablethewayhepackedsomuchtoxicwasteintoafewwords.
“IknowforafacttheChiefisveryinterestedinSara,”Isaid.Sheturnedherhead,staringoutatthewaterasaslightlaughrolledthroughhershoulders.
Dr.Shapiropickeduphismenuwithapointedglanceathisdaughter.“Haveyoulookedatthis?Theyhavesomeinterestingsalads.Ican’timagineyougetmuchfreshproduceinBoston.EverythingmustcometruckedinfromthewestorshippedupfromSouthAmerica.Whatashame.It’sneververygoodunlessit’strulyfresh.You’lllikeoneofthesesalads.”
BeforeIcouldgetmyhandsaroundthatobliquecomment,amanwavedfromafewtablesoverandDr.Shapiroimmediatelysteppedawaytospeakwithhim,sayingtous,“I’llneedaminuteforthis.”
Whenhewasoutofearshot,Sarasaid,“Areyouamusingyourself?”
Ireachedformywineglass.“Somewhat.”
“Youcan’timpresshim.It’snotpossible.He’stheonlyoneallowedtodotheimpressing.Itdoesn’tmatterwhoyouknow,whereyou’vebeen,whatyou’vedone.He’scorneredthismarket.It’shis.YouandHartshorncouldbeconjoinedtwinsandmyfatherwouldnotcarebecausehedidn’tdiscoveryou.Hedecideswhetheryou’reworthtellingeveryoneabout.Hedoestheimpressing.”
“YoumightdoubtmewhenIsaythis,butIknowthatalready.Iknowmywayaroundthisgame.Justletmeplay,okay?”
“Don’tstartanyfires,”shewarned.
“Aslongasyoudon’tbreakanywindows,”Ireplied.
“Itwasonetime,”shewhisper-cried.“Onewindow.”
“Anddon’tthinkI’lleverletyouforgetit.”Ilaughedandawidegrinpulledatherlips.
Seethatsmile?You’rewrongaboutthisone.You’reallwrong.
Dr.Shapiroreturnedtothetable,saying,“Alwaysrunningintosomeonewhowantstotalk.ThatwasDr.Kim.He’sinfromDallas.He’stakenontennewpartnersthisyear.Hewassmarttolistentome.”HeglancedbetweenmeandSarawithaself-importantgrin.“How’sbusinessinBostonthesedays?Enoughtokeepbusy?Itwouldbearealshameforyoutoloseyourskills.”
Sarashrugged,andthoughitreadasacasualgesture,allthelevitywe’djustsharedwasgone.Initsplace,tensionthatburnedlikeafirethatcreptalongthewalls,lowandhotanddestructiveenoughtotakedownthewholedamnhouse.“Myskillsgetmorethanadequateuse.”
“Andtheyshould,”hereplied,againoccupiedwithhisphone.“Ididn’tgetyouintothatfellowshiptositonyourhandsallday.”
Thismotherfucker.
Sarablinkedathim,notthathenoticed.Idroppedmyhandtoherknee.Sheshookherhead,tellingmeshedidn’tneedthesupport,butIgaveheralightsqueezeanyway.SherolledhereyesasifIwasoverreactingandthatwould’vebeenbelievableifshehadn’tshiftedinherseatandpressedthatkneeintomypalm.
ThesimilaritiesbetweenmyfatherandDr.Shapiroweren’thardtofindoncetheartificeofmedicinewasstrippedaway.Theybothlovedthesoundoftheirvoicesandbelievedthepeopleclosesttothemweretheleastrelevant,theleastprecious.
WeplacedourordersandDr.Shapirowentongrabbinghisphoneeverytwentyseconds,motioningtosomeoneheknewontheothersideoftherestaurant,andsimultaneouslyregisteringhisopinionsonthetopicspresentedattheconference.Hewascapableofcarryingonaconversationwithouttheinvolvementofanyoneelse,andthatdidn’tbothermeonebit.IwascontenttosipwineandstrokeSara’skneeandletthisguybeafooldrunkoffhisownKool-Aid.
Fromthesoundsofheroccasionalmurmursand“Oh,that’sinteresting,”Sarahadthesameidea.
Whenthemealarrived,Dr.Shapirowastwotablesaway,hishandsbracedonthebacksofthechairsofacoupleseatedthere.Istaredathimforamoment,waitingforhimtocatchmyeye.Iwasn’tinthebusinessofmakinghisdaughterwaitandIwasverygoodatglaringholesthroughskulls.
HeknewIwaswatchinghim.Icouldtellfromthewayhecuthisgazetothesideandshiftedtoavoidaccidentallymeetingmyeyes.Hewasn’tbudging.
IglancedoveratSaraonlytofindherfrowningatherplate.“Excuseme,”Isaidtotheserverasshefilledourwine,“thisisnotwhattheladyordered.Sheaskedforgrilled,notpan-seared,andnoneofthemangosalsa.”Ipickeduptheplate,handedittotheserver.“Thankyou.”
“I’lltakecareofthatrightaway,”shesaid.
Saraliftedherglasstoherlips,tookatinysip.“Youdidn’thavetodothat.”
“Youweren’tgoingtosayanything,andasIbelieveyou’vestatedonmorethanafewoccasions,Ilikebeinganasshole.”
“Youaren’tbeinganasshole.”
“No?Adickhead,then?”
“Notthateither.”Shelaughed.“You’reusingthesepowersofyoursforgood.”
IglaredoveratDr.Shapiroagain.Thecouplehewastalkingtonoticed,makingsomeplayfulshooinggestures,thoughherespondedtothatbyfullyturninghisbacktome.
Anotherthingheandmyfatherhadincommonwasthatyoucouldn’ttellthemanything.Youcouldn’targuewiththem,couldn’treason.Thatwasthetrapofthenarcissist.Tryingtohaveaconversationwiththemwaslikeplayingoneofthosefingertrapgames,asitwasneveraconversation.Itwasstupidchess.Noneofitmattered,butthey’dweaponizeeverythinginreachandchangetheruleswhiletheyplayed,alltokeepupthepretenseofwinning.
Theywerenever,everwrong—whichmeanteveryoneelsewasalwayswrong.EvenifIrattledoffthetwentymostoffensivethingshe’dsaidtonightandcalledonhimtoaccountforthatshit,Dr.Shapirowouldspinthatintomebeingalunatic,Sarabeinganidiotforbringingmealong,andhebeingthevictimforhavingtoendureit.
Icouldn’ttearintotheguy.AsmuchasIwantedto,Icouldn’t.ItwouldfollowSaraforever,muchlikethesinglescatterbrainedmomentthatprobablywasn’tscatteredatallyetstilltrailedherlikeaghost.Morethanthat,itwouldn’thelp.Nooneevertoldoffanarcissistandlivedtotelltalesofvictory.
No,Iwasn’tgoingtoyellatthisguyonSara’sbehalf.
Icoulddobetterthanthat.
Itwasn’tthereactionsthatgainedground.Itwaspivots.Maneuvers.
Inrecordtime,Sarahadanewplateofgrilledredsnappersanssalsa,andDr.Shapiroshowedhimselfbacktothetable.Hemotionedtowardherwithhisrocksglass.“Goodchoice.Thatlookslight.”
Andthatwasit.Thatwasfuckingitforme.“Youknow,I’msurprisedtoseeasmartguylikeyoudrinkingbourbon,”Isaidtohim.“ButIguessweallchoosethewayswekillourselves.”
Sarabroughthernapkintoherlips,smotheringalaugh.
“Bourbon?No.Noworsethananythingelse.”Heturnedhisattentiontotheplateinfrontofhim,hisfacetwistedinasmirkingpout.“Noworsethanwine.I’vedonemyresearch.”
Ireachedformyglass.“IbetMortySpeebackknocksbacknomorethantwoglassesofredadayandtellseveryonehemeetstodothesame.That’swhyhehandsitoutbythecase.”
“Actually,yes,hedoesdothat,”Sarasaid.IcouldhearthefightinhervoiceandIlovedit.“He’sbeensayingthatforages.Isn’theeighty-seven?Eighty-eight?”
“Andstillpracticing?”Iasked.
“Apparently,”shereplied.“Imighthaveanothertwentysurgicalyearsinme,butnotadaymore.”
“Thenit’sabouttimeyoustoptryingtosavetheworld,”Dr.Shapirosaid.Hesethisforkdown,visiblyperturbed.“Idon’tknowwhatthepointofworkinginBostonis,butyoucandoallthereconstructionyouwantathome.Youknowmyfacilitiesarebetterthananythingyou’regoingtofindanywhereelse.Whatmoredoyouneed?”
Iheldupahand.“You’retryingtopoachher?Fromoneofthelargestandmostwidelyrespectedteachinghospitalsintheworld?Theonewithaccesstoanunimaginablyvastresearchsystem?Theonewiththenearlyunlimitedalumninetwork?Andthefacilityisyoursellingpoint?Thatmustbeonefuckofafacility.”
Hebrushedthatoffwithacurtshakeofhishead.“Teachingisawasteoftime.Sarashouldn’tbespendingherdayswithinternsandresidentsnippingatherheels.”
Iturnedtoher.Shewaspickingatherfish.“I’veneveronceseenaresidentorinternanywherenearyourheels.”
“That’sbecauseIknowhowtoworkthemandnotletthemworkme.”
Imotionedtothegoddessbesideme.“That’showwedoitinBoston.”
Later,I’dmilkherforadviceonhandlingO’RourkebecauseIobviouslyneededit.
Ignoringme,Dr.ShapirosaidtoSara,“Youdon’twanttowasteyourtimeatabig,bloatedfacilitylikethat.YourORgettingbumpedforemergentcases,differenttechsandnurseseveryday,nocontroloveryourschedule.Thehoursalonearereasontowalkaway.Youdon’twantthosekindsofconditions.”
“I’vealwaysbelievedit’sbetternottotellpeoplewhattheywant,butthatdoesn’tseemtobethestandardheresoI’llsaywithcomfortthatMasswillfightyoutothebourbon-hasteneddeathforSara.”
Hewaspoliteenoughtoforceanappeasinggrinbeforesayingtoher,“Ijustwantwhat’sbestforyou.”Heheldhergazeforasecondbeforebeamingatsomeoneoverhershoulderandcalling,“DidtheyletRonGillettiinhere?”
Dr.Shapiropushedawayfromthetable,hisclothnapkinfallingtothefloorashemovedtogreettheman.
“Thatwasfun,”Saramurmured.
“Iknowyou’rebeingsarcastic,butIhavetosayitisfuntorunthroughanoffensivelinelikethat.I’mnotpositive,butitfeelslikeIworkedthroughsomeissuestonight.Itsucked,yetitwasstrangelyproductive.”
“I’mhappyyoufeelthatway,”shesaid,managingasmalllaugh.Sherubbedherknucklesacrossherchestseveraltimes,winced.“Imightrequireyourservicesagaininthefuture.NotsureI’lleverbeabletoendureanotheroneoftheseeveningswithoutyourunninginterference.”
“Signmeup.I’llbethere.”Igaveherlegasqueeze.Shedidn’tlookgreat.“Areyouokay?Youdemolishedthatsnapper.”
“It’swhatIdo,”shesaid.“Shovefoodinmymouthtoavoidbeingmentallypresentforthebackhandedflogging.”Ifollowedhergazetoherfather,themanhe’dcalledRon,andapairofwomenwhoseemedmuchtooyoungforeitherofthem.Muchtoofamiliarwiththemaswell.Thebodylanguagespokeinboldshouts.“Gross.”
Ireachedformywallet.“Arewedonehere?Ordowehavetoplayafewmoreroundsofbeinglessimportantthaneveryoneelseontheisland?”
Shesethernapkinonthetable.Flattenedahandtoherbelly.“You’renotpayingforthis.”
“Ohyes,Iam.”Iflaggeddowntheserver,handedoveracard.“Justyouwait.”
SaracontinuedsneakingglancesatthewomenspeakingtoherfatherwhileIsignedforthecheck.“Theycouldbemychildren.”
“Tellthosethoughtstoshutup.”Iwrappedmyhandaroundherelbow.“Let’ssaygoodbye.”
“Awesome,”shemumbledaswecrossedtherestauranttojointwomenintheirlatesixtiesandapairofwomenwhocouldn’tbeaminuteovertwenty-one.Yeah,theycouldbemychildrentoo.Mykneesachedthinkingaboutthatreality.
Dr.Shapiropivotedwhenhespottedus,clappingtheothermanonthebackandsaying,“Dr.RonGilletti,thisismydaughterSaraandDr.Stremmel.They’reinfromBoston.StillworkingonconvincingthemtoquitthewintersandcometoCaliforniaforthegoodlife.”
RonshookourhandsandofferedsomeboilerplatereasonstofleeNewEngland.HeinsistedVegaswaswonderfulandthesummersnotnearlyasbadaswemightassume.Inoddedthataway,saying,“Nicetomeetyouboth.Wehavetoheadout.Ross,dinner’sonme.”
Ididn’tknowwhatwasgoingthroughDr.Shapiro’shead,buthisfacelookedverymuchlikeI’dthrownabowlofhotsoupinhislapandinformedhimhiswealthmanagerwasmissing.Didn’tevenknowwhichinsulttoaddressfirst.Withinafewblinks,herecovered,saying,“It’smytreat.Iinsist.”
“Alreadydone,”Ireplied,steppingaway.“SafetravelsbacktoCalifornia.”IpointedatRon.“AndVegas.”
Saratookholdofmyhandandledthewaythroughtherestaurant.Shemovedquickly,andwhenweexited,sheshookmeoff.“Ineed—”
Sherantowardthebushesandittookmeasecondtoprocesswhatwashappening.Iwenttoher,gatheredupherhairasshegagged,smoothedahanddownherback.Tothevaletattendantswatchingfromthecurb,Icalled,“CouldIgetsomewater?Tissues?Thanks.”
Shetriedtoelbowmeawaybutthatwasn’thappening.Ishould’vekeptaneyeonher.Should’veslowedherdowninsteadofgoadingherfather.Should’vekeptitlow-key.Iwaitedwhilethespasmsmovedthroughher.Thetissuesandwaterarrived,alongwithaveryconcernedrestaurantmanagerwhowasquicktosummonataxitotakeusbacktotheresort.Noonewantedawomantossinghercookiesinfrontoftheirrestaurant.
WhenSarawasready,Iusheredherintothebackseatofthetaxiandtuckedherclosebesideme.“Whatdoyouneed?”Iasked.
Sheshookherheadagainstmybicep,keptthewadoftissuespressedtoherlips.Tearsstreakedhermakeup.Ikissedherforehead.Shewasclammythere.Ididn’tcare.
Asthetaxipulledontotheroad,Isaid,“MydadleftuswhenIwasthree.ItwastwoweeksbeforeChristmas.RightbeforeIturnedfour.It’swildthatIrememberit,butIdo.Everybitofit.Therewasaninvestmentthathadpaidoff.Hesaidthingswerechangingforhimandwehadtochangetoo.Ithoughtthatmeantweweremovingintoabiggerhouse.Nah.Hewasgettingthefuckout.Hewasdone.Wewereholdinghimback.Heleftthatnight.Mymothersaidhe’dreturnandshebelievedthattoo.Sheputmetobed,sayinghewasgoingthroughaphase.Thathewasoutsowingsomewildoatsandhe’dreturnassoonashewasdonewiththat.”Ithumbedatearfromhercheek.“Mysisterwastwoatthetime.Shehasnomemoryofthis,butshelikestosayItoldheroatswerevery,verybadandmustbeavoided.”
Asoundlesslaughshookhershoulders.Ikissedherforeheadagain.
“Itwasyearsbeforemymotherstoppedbelievinghe’dcomebackforus.Iwasprobablyeightorninebythetimeshegaveitup.Tookofftheweddingband.ThepartI’llneverforgetishowhemadeherthinkshewasn’tuptohisstandards.Noneofuswere,butIwasbarelyfour.Ididn’thavealottoshowformyself.Myaccomplishmentswerelimited.Mymother,ontheotherhand,hadbeenwithhimforyearsbeforeIcamealong.Beforemysistercamealong.Andhejustblewherthefuckoffbecausehegotsomecashinhispocketanddecidedhedeservedbetterthanher.”
Saradrewinadeepbreath,counteditoutwithlighttapstomywrist.Iwaiteduntilshedidittwicemore.
“Wedidn’tseeorhearfromhimagainuntilIwasfinishinghighschoolandeventhatwaslittlemorethanafly-by.Hedidn’twantanythingtodowithus.Hewantedattentionandhewantedtomakenoise,butheneverwantedus.NotuntilmysistercametocontrolticketsforaDivisionIfootballteamandIgotanMD.Mysister—blessherandherbig,brassballs—doesn’tparticipateinthatshit,thoughItakesomeofhiscalls.Itaketheself-aggrandizingspeechesandthecircuitousasksforso-calledinvestmentcapital.Theaskstopresentsomeofhiswealth-buildingopportunitiestomycolleaguesbecausethey’rethevaluableonesinthisequation.”
Iranahanddownherback,overthesilkydressthathungbeautifullyfromherbody,buthadnobusinessintheclosetoftheSaraIknew.TheSaraofyellowsneakers.TheSaraofsweatersIwantedtopet.Thequippyt-shirts.Thejeansthatblewmyfuckingmind.Thepastelcupsandthevelvetfurniture.TheSaraIknew.TheSaraIloved.
“IalwaystellhimtofuckoffbecauseI’dwantedtodothatfromtheveryfirstmomentIlearnedtheexpression.Inevergettiredofit.”Idroppedakissonhertemple,tuckedherhairoverherear.“Iwillalwaysrunthatinterferenceforyou.”
Whenwearrivedattheresort,westrolledtoherbungalow.Minewasallbutforgotten.Shewantedtoshoweraloneandshedid.ThatIleanedagainstthebathroomvanity,myarmscrossedandmyjawlockedasIwatcheddidnotchangethatfact.
Iwrappedherupinanotherlong,fluffybathrobeandtuckedherintobedwithabowlofcrackersandalargecarafeofwater.Shetwistedherwethairupintoabunandsentmetofindtheheatingpadinhersuitcase.Icuedupanewmovieonmylaptopandsettledinbesideher.
“Thisisn’twhatyouhadinmindfortonight,”shesaid.
Inabbedoneofhercrackers.Theywerenotterrible.“Yeah,itis.”
“Don’tdothat,”shesaid.“Don’tpretendthisisthesameaswhatevercrazy,wildsexplanyouhadforme.”
“IlikehowyouthinkIhavecrazy,wildsexplans.Like,I’msittingathomeandwritingoutnakeditineraries.”
“You’renot?”
“IfI’msittingathome,I’mprobablytryingtoignorethenoisescomingfromAlexandRiley’sapartmentdownstairs.”
Shedroppedherheadtomyshoulder.“Aretheythatloudorarethewallsthatthin?”
“Ithinkit’sboth,”Ireplied.“Thehoneymoonneverendedforthem.”
“Mustbenice,”shemurmured.“I’msorryabout,youknow,everything.”
“Iamstillinbedwithyou,”Isaid.“ThisisexactlywhatIwanted.”CHAPTER27SARA
Sebastianpointedhisbeerbottledownthebeachtowherewhitechairsandanorchid-drapedarborstood.Hotelstaffwerebusyliningtheperimeterwithflowerpetals.“Arewegoingtoaweddingtoday,Shap?”
Igroanedfromthecomfortofmybeachchair,pushedmytoesdeeperintothesand.“AslongasIdon’thavetoflytoNashvilleforthebacheloretteorspendfivehundreddollarsonadressthatwon’tbewornagain,regardlessofwhatthebridesays,sure.Signmeup.”
Heturnedtowardmewithachuckle.“Alwaysthebridesmaid?”
“Betweenmysororitysisters,thefourgirlsIlivedwithduringmedschool,andmyfriendsfrombackhome,IthinkI’vebeeninadozenweddingsandattendedadozenmore.”
Hepeeredatme,asmallsmiletwistingacrosshislips.“Wouldn’thaveguessedsororitygirl,butnowthatyousayit”—hedraggedaknowinggazeovermybodyandbackup—”yeah,Iseeit.”
“Don’tlookatmelikethat.Youwould’vedemolishedthetwenty-year-oldversionofme.”
Hebarkedoutalaugh.“Probablynot.Let’sjustsayIdidn’tknowwhattodowithprettysororitygirlswhenIwasincollege.”
“Really?Youdidn’thittheladieswithyourscowl-and-growlroutine?”
Heranhisknucklesalonghisscruffyjaw.“Itdidn’tworkaswellbeforethebeard.”
“Shocking,”Imurmured.“Iwouldn’twanttohavethewholetraditionalweddingthingonabeach.”
“Whynot?”
“IfI’mgettingmarriedonabeach,ithastobesimple.Nohugedresses,norosepetals,noperfectlittlewhitefoldingchairs.”
“Thenyouwanttogetmarried?”heasked.
“Maybe.Ithinkso.Ifitworksout.”Ipeeredattheceremonysiteasittookshape.“Whataboutyou?You’dreallyspiceuptheAcevedo-Hartshorndoubledatecircuit.”
Heshookhishead.“Idon’tthinkso.Myparentsdidn’tsellmeontheinstitutionifyouknowwhatImean.”
“Neitherdidmine,”Ireplied.“They’reprobablytheworstpossiblemodelsforahealthymarriage.Theyaretextbookexamplesofpeoplewhoshouldgetdivorced.”
“Andhereyouare,planningyournon-traditionalislandwedding.”
“Iamnotplanningmywedding.IjustknowIwouldn’twantitlikethat.”Igesturedtowardthearbor.“Ihatebeingthecenterofattention,soI’dneverwantabigweddingwithwalkingdowntheaisleandafirstdance.Cuttingthecake?I’ddisappear.I’mnotkidding.Icouldn’thandlethat.”
Hetappedhisbeerbottleagainstmywater.“Callmeifyoueverneedagetaway.”
“Yeah,Stremmel,I’lldothat,”Isaidwithalaugh.“IloveallmyfriendsandI’velovedbeingpartoftheirweddings,buttherehavebeenafewoccasionswhereI’veseriouslywonderedwhethertheyweregettingmarriedbecausetheywantedtobetogetherforeverorbecausetheywantedtohaveareallybigparty.AndIfeelterriblesayingthat,butafewofthosemarriageshavealreadyendedandafewothersareheadedthatdirection.Therewasonethatdidn’tlastayearandIjustfeltlike‘Whyarewedoingthis?’”
“Becausetheyneedsomethingtodoafterfinishingschoolandgettingajob,”hesaid.“Peoplelookatlifelikeit’saseriesofcheckboxes.Graduate,gotowork,getmarried,getahouse,haveakid,getadog,haveanotherkid,gotoDisneyWorld,sendthekidsofftoschool,retire,spoilthegrandkids.There’salwayssomethingtodonext.Alwaysanothercheckbox.Itkeepsyoubusy,keepsyoufromlookingaroundandwondering‘What’sthepointofallthis?’”
Iglancedathim.“Nocheckboxesforyou?”
Heshookhishead.“Idon’tknow.Icouldseemyselfhavingakidsomeday.”
“You’dhavekids,butnotgetmarried?”
“Maybe?Idon’tknowwhatI’mtalkingabout,”hesaid.“ButIdon’tthinkthetwohavetogohandinhand.Peoplecancreateafamilywithoutgettingmarried,withouthavingkids.Afamilyisabunchofpeoplewholoveandcareforeachotherunconditionally,peoplewhoshowupforeachotherunconditionally.Itdoesn’thavetobelegal.Doesn’thavetobeblood.Butitdoeshavetobeunconditional.Familycan’tbloweachotheroff.Doesthatmakesense?”
“Itmakesalotofsense,”Isaid.“Idon’tthinkkidsareforme.Mybodyworkstoohardtakingcareofme.Itreallydoesn’twanttogrowsomeoneelse.Sure,there’salwaysadoption,fostering,surrogacy.ButIdon’tthinkI’mrightforthat.Likeyousaidthatdayatbubblesuitjousting—”
“Don’t,”hegroaned.“IwasadouchethatdaybecauseIwasjealousabouttheprofessor.”
“I’mnotwillingtocutmyon-callhours,”Icontinued,“soI’dbelookingatfull-timehelpforthesefictionalchildrenofminebecausethereisnowork-lifebalancetobefoundinthiscareer.IknowrightnowI’dshameandguiltmyselfoveriteveryday,evenifplentyofotherpeopledoit.IknowI’dtrytobethemostperfectwife-mother-surgeon-everythinguntilIranmyselfintotheground.I’drathernotdothatagain.”
“Iwasadouchethatday,”herepeated.
“Iheardyouthefirsttime,”Isaid.
“I’msorryIsaidit.”
Ishrugged.“Itwastrue.”
“Doesn’tmeanIshould’vesaidit.”
Inodded,silentalongmomentaswecontinuedwatchingthestaffhangbouquetsfromeverychairalongtheaisle.Eventually,Iasked,“DoyougohometoFloridafortheholidays?Areyouheadingbacktherenextmonth?”
“IusuallycovertheERonChristmasEveandChristmasDay,”hesaid.“Ididn’tdoitlastyearbecauseIwasfuckingexhausted,butHartshornstartedmepickingupshiftsonholidays.Itgivesotherdocsachancetobewiththeirpeople,andasidefromthefactIgetalotoflongweekendsoutofthosereturnedfavors,it’snotabaddaytobethere.Everyonebringsinfood,thecasesaren’ttoobad,andAcevedoinsistsIstopbyafterwardsohe’snotdrinkingwhiskeybythefirealone.Nocomplaintsfromme.”
“Youdon’tgohome?”
“Homeisn’thome.Acevedo’shouseismorehometomethantheplacewheremymotherlivesnow.MysisterViviisthereinGainesvilleandshe’samazing,buttheholidaysareherbusiesttimewithbowlgames.Besides,mymotherandherhusbandliketotravelalot.IthinktheyhaveacondoinAruba.Theygotherefortheholidaysifthey’renotonacruiseoroffsomewhereelse.”
“Yourmother’shusband.So,yourstepfather?”
“Mother’shusbandisfine,”hemurmured.
“Right.”
“Whataboutyou?Wheredoyougo,whodoyousee?”
Ibeltedoutadrylaugh.“Youhavetoaskthatafterlastnight?Idon’tgoanywhere.Ihateholidayseasontravel.Itstressesmeout.Everyoneissofranticandhostile.I’dratherwaituntilJanuaryorFebruaryandtaketwoweeksofftodothis.”Igesturedtothebeacharoundus.“Imightdothisagaininthenewyear.”
“Ilikethatidea.Imightbetheonetosurprisethehelloutofyou.”
“I’dliketoseeyoutry,”Iteased.“I’mnotnearlyasgoodasyou,seeingasIdon’tcoveranyservicesoverholidays,butIusuallygetpickedupbysomeextroverttojointheirholidayevents.Lastyear,EmmerlingbroughtmealongtoThanksgivingatherhusband’sfamily’splace.Thatwaswild.Shealsoconvincedmetojointhemforamulti-holidaythingathersister-in-law’spenthouseintheNorthEnd.”
“I’vebeentothatparty,”hesaid.“Ihitonthatsister-in-law.Infrontofherfiancétoo.”
“Ofcourseyoudid,”Isaid,thislaughfarlesssaltythanthelast.
“Youhavesiblings,right?Whataboutthem?YousaidoneofthemisinArizona.”
“CalebisinArizona.He’sthemiddlechildandmyfather’sclone.HeopenedtheScottsdaleclinic,hegolfsalldayThursdaysandSundays,andhehasatenthousandsquarefoothouseonCamelbackMountainforhim,hiswife,andtwoPomeranians.He’stoobusyaugmentingbreastsandbeingthefavoritechildtocarewhatmybrotherEliorIdo.Ifhe’snoticedthatIhaven’tbeenhomeinyears,hedoesn’tmentionit.Hell,hehasn’tbeenhomeinyearseither.He’sridingtheexpansiontideprettyhardandit’sworkednicelyforhim.”Ipausedforasipofwater.“Eliisthebabyandtherebel.IfIhaveasavageheart,hehasasavageexistence.Hewasinthemilitaryjustlongenoughtoproperlyhorrifymyparents.Nowhe’sbasedoutofLouisianaandworksinregionaldisasterresponseasamedic.He’sdeployedfornaturaldisastersandcrisisevents,thatsortofthing.Wetextalot.Hetakesissuewithmedoingthingslikecomingtoconferencesbecausemyfatherdemandsit.HethinksI’mlettingthisshitintomyliferatherthanenforcingboundaries.”
“Familyiscomplex,”hesaidsoftly.“Notalotofrightanswers.”
“Nope.”Iglancedoverathim.“Youweretellingmeaboutcollege.Howyoudidn’thaveanygamewiththegirls.I’mburnedoutonfamilyproblems.Finishthatstory.”
“Ididn’thaveanygame.That’salltherewastoit.Iwaspreoccupiedwithhatingeverythingaboutcollege,butsinceitwassuchanimprovementoverhighschool,Ididn’tcomplain,”hesaid.
“SomehowIdoubtthat,”Isaid.“Thatyoudidn’tcomplain.I’mcertainyouhatedeverythingandcomplainedconstantly.”
“Ididn’tcomplainasoften,”hesaid.“IwenttothisprivateSouthernBaptistschoolfrompre-kindergartenthroughhighschoolbecausemymomworkedattheschool.Shewastheheadmaster’ssecretary.Thatgrantedfreetuitiontomysisterandme.Shetookthejobforthatreasonalone.Itwasgoodbecauseitmeantshedidn’thavetoscrambleforchildcare.We’djustgotoschoolwithhereverydayandwaitinthelibraryuntilshewasdone.”Hepaused,tookasipofhisbeer.“Butwe’renotSouthernBaptistsoitwasafourteen-yearexperimentinwhattheactualfuck.MymotherraisedusCatholic-ish.Shedidherbest,butthatshitistime-intensiveandweweregettingallthisothernoiseatschool,sowewereover-the-tophostiletowarditontheweekends.WebasicallybrokemymotherofherCatholicismbythetimeIwasten.Viviwasbarelyeight,butshewaslike,fuckthisshit.Itwasarelieftogettocollegeandnothavetobitemytonguetokeepfromarguingwithaministereverydayatschool.”
“Same.Ican’tbelieveI’msayingit,butsame.”Iclosedmyhandoverhisforearm.“IgrewupJewish.VeryReform,mostlyculturallysincemyparentsdon’thaveaspiritualbonebetweenthem.TheysentmeandmysiblingstoaprivateEpiscopalianschool,buttheydidn’thaveanygoodreasonlikefreetuition.No,itwasjusttheposhestprivateschoolinOrangeCountyandallthefamiliestheysocializedwithsenttheirkidsthere.Fortunately—Iguess?—therewerekidsfromalldifferentbackgroundsthereanditwasactuallyaverydiverselearningenvironmentandIcametounderstandatonaboutothercultures,butwestillhadweeklychurchservicesandrequiredBiblestudycourses.IremembermyparentsexplainingtomeatareallyyoungagethatI’dhearthesethingsinschoolandI’djusthavetogoalongwithit,evenifitwasdifferentfromwhatI’dlearnedinHebrewschool.Somehow,asachild,Iwasabletonegotiatethatdissonancewithoutcompletelymeltingdown.Whattheactualfuckisright.”
Hepeeredatmeforamoment,hisbrowwrinkledashethought.Heskimmedaglanceovermybody.“Wasthereaplaidskirtinvolved?”
“Areyoubeingapervertrightnow?”
“Thatdependsonhowyoudefinepervert,”hesaid,stillstudyingmylegs.
“Areyouthinkingaboutmeinastarchedschooluniform?Asachild?”
“I’mthinkingaboutyouasyouaretoday,”hesaid,alazygestureatmybreasts,“inastarchedschooluniform.”
“You’restillbeingapervert,”IsaidbutIcouldn’thidemysmile.
“Wasthereablouseinvolved?”HemotionedtohischestandInodded.“Blazerorsweater?Tellmeitwasasweater.Lietomeifyouhavetobecauseyou’reafuckingsnackinsweatersandIneedtocompletethisvisual.”
“Youlikemysweaters?”
Hisbrowsliftedashecontinueddragginghisgazeovermybody.“It’sthebestpartoflivinginanicebox.”
“Youlovethaticebox.”
“Ihavegrowntotolerateitasaninevitablepartofmyexistence,”hereplied.
“You’reneverleaving.”
Henodded.“That’sprobablytrue.”
ThoughIdidn’thaveareasonto,Isaid,“Imightleave.”
Heturnedhisattentionbacktotheocean.“Why?”
IgaveasingleshakeofmyheadbecauseIreallydidn’tknowwhyI’dbroughtthisup,butIcouldn’ttakeitbacknow.“Idon’tgetthesensethisisaparticularlygoodfitforme.”
“Whynot?”
Ishouldnothavebroughtthisup.I’dneververbalizeditbefore,onlybatteditaroundinmyheadandinventedunproductivestoriesthatboileddowntoimpostersyndromeandmyfather’sunendinginfluenceonmycareer.“Myoutcomesaregreat.Myresidentsaregreat.Everything’sgreat.ButIgetthesensenoonereallyknowswhattodowithme.Likethereshouldbesomethingmoretome,someextrasparkleIcan’tseemtoconjure.”Thesparklewasmyfather.Everyonewantedaccesstohim,andeventhoughIlookedlikeIcouldprovidethataccess,nothingcouldbefurtherfromthetruth.“AndsincetheaccidentintheER,well,thathasn’thelped.”
“Youdon’tcarewhatIthink,butnoneofthatistrue,”hesaid.
“It’struetome.”AndIdocarewhatyouthink,Ijustdon’tknowhowtobringthosewordstomylips.
“Itmakessensethatyoulietoyourselffrequently,”hesaid.“You’retheoneeatingcroutonsstraightupandpretendingit’snormal.”
“IeatcroutonsnowbecauseIdidn’tletmyselfhavethem.Before,”Iadded.
Withasighthatsankhisshoulders,hesaid,“Sara.Iwishyou’dtoldmethatsooner.”
“HowcouldI?”Iranmypalmsovertheedgesofmyarmrests.“Wewereverybusyhatingeachother.Couldn’tpossiblypeelbackmybulletproofvesttoshowyoumyweakspots.Would’vebeenpoorstrategyonmybehalf.”
“IstillwishI’dknown.”
Ishotaglanceinhisdirection,buthewasglaringatthewavesanddidn’tnotice.“Why?Wouldyouhavetrashedmycroutonsanyless?”
“No,ofcoursenot.Ijust—IjustwishI’dknown.”
Iwasn’tcontentwiththat.“Why?Whatwould’vechanged?WouldyouhavebeenmeasuredandcordialthatdayintheER?WouldyouhavesatnexttomeonthesofainMilana’soffice?Wouldyouhavestompeduptoyourapartmentinsteadofslammingmeupagainstmydoor?”
Afteramomentofconsiderationwhereitseemedhisscowlcouldn’tgetanydeeperwithouthisentireheadcavingin,hesaid,“AllIcansayisIwantyoutotrustmeenoughtoletmeholdthesepiecesofyou.Ilikelookingafteryou.”
Reflexively,Isaid,“Idon’tneedlookingafter.”
Herolledhisheadagainstthebackofhischairtostareatme,hiseyesasdarkasnightandhispoutinfinitelykissable.“Yes,youdo.”
TherewerenofewerthanamillionthingsIwantedtosayaboutthat,butSebastianwasalreadymovingon,givingmeimpatientgesturesandlet’sgetonwithiteyes.
“Andwherewouldyougo?IfyouleftBoston?”heasked.
Iliftedashoulder.“Idon’tknow.”
“Thenyou’renotentertainingoffers,”hesaid.“You’rejustentertainingtheideaofanotherhospitalfawningoveryou,makingsureyouknowyou’retheirprizegem.AndyousayI’mthearrogantonehere.”
“Ihaveoffers.”Nonethatinterestedme,butthatwasbesidethepoint.“Andit’snotaboutfawning.”
“HartshornandAcevedoadoreyou.They’llfawn.Justdropahintandthey’llfawn.”Hesaidthiswithasplashofaccusation,likeI’dreallycrossedalineingarneringtherespectofmycolleagues.Whataninsufferablebitch,right?“They’llblamemeuntiltheendoftimeifyouleave.They’llwhipme,bothliterallyandfiguratively,untiltheactualendoftime.”
“Oh,no.Thatsoundssoawfulforyou,”Ideadpanned.
“I’mjustsaying,youhavefans.AndyouknowHartshornisteeduptotakeoverasthenextChiefofSurgery,”hecontinued.
“Andyou’reteeduptotakeoveremergencysurgery.”
“Hah.NotuntilIproveI’mnotaliability,”hesaid,buttherewasnoheatbehindthosewords.“IknowyouthinkthatdayintheERfuckedthingsupforyou,butit’sgoingtobeokay.It’sgonnablowover.Itwasanaccident,andeveryoneknowsthat.”
Iknewhebelievedthat.Itdidn’tmakeittrueforme.Ihadtoseeittobelieveit.
Hereachedforhisdrink,saying,“Idon’twanttotalkaboutworkanymore.We’renotthere.It’snotourproblemrightnow.Whatwereyoulikeinhighschool?”
“Yougofirst,”Isaid.
“Iwasamoodylittleemo-gothasshole,”hesaid.“Iwasveryconcernedwithmoodymusicandgothbooksthatweren’tactuallyinteresting,butmademefeelsuperiorforbeingabletoquotethemconversationally.Iftheschooluniformwould’vepermittedearringsandeyebrowrings,Iwould’vehadadozen.Iwould’vetattooedmyeyelids.Justforthejoyofbeingcontrarian.ButIwasalsoanexpertatallmattersrelatedtoschooloffices.Icouldfixeveryprinterandcopier.Iwasageniuswiththelaminatorandthegiantpapercutterofdeath.Iknewthephonesystembetterthananyone.”
“Thatisadorable,”Isaid.“Idon’thavenearlyasmuchamusingmaterialtosharewithyou.Iwasacheerleader,but—”
“Ohmygodwhat?”hesputtered,adropofbeerrollingdownhischin.“Whatwasthat?”
“Oh.It’snothing.Ijust—Iwasn’tverygoodatballetoranyofthedanceclassesmymotherputmeintobecauseIwasachunkylittlechickennuggetofakid,whichshehated,butIdidwellwithgymnastics.Imean,I’mshort.It’snotashock.WhenIreachedhighschool,Itriedoutforcheer.SinceIcouldtumble,Iwaschosenforvarsitymyfirstyear.”
Mycheeksheatedashecontinuedstaringatme.Hewasgoingtosaysomethingawfulaboutcheerleadersandhowtherewasprobablyacheer-to-plasticspipeline,eithersurgeonorpatient,andIshouldbeproudforleaningallthewayintothatstereotype.Then,“Ilovethat.Sara.Ican’tevenhandleit.There’slikeapainfulhiccupstuckinmychestrightnowbecauseIlovethatsomuch.Isthisaheartattack?Idon’tknow.Don’tcare.Tellmemore.”
“Okay,butwhydoyouloveit?”Iasked,laughing.
“BecauseIamobsessedwithsmall,strongasfuckwomenwhocanfliparoundandshit.Obsessed.Justfuckin’obsessed.IwatchcollegecheercompetitionsonESPNallthetime.”Helookedmeupanddownagain.“Canyoustilldothatstuff?No,wait,forgetIasked.Thatwasstupid.ThementalpictureisallIneed.Butholdon,doyouhaveayearbookanywhere?No,nevermind.Don’tanswerthat.Whatareyoudoing?”
Ipushedtomyfeet,tuggedoffthesarong,smoothedmyhandsdownthesidesofmythighs.“We’llstartsmall.IthinkIcanstilldoabackhandspring.Itusedtobemyintrostory.Youknow,‘let’sgoaroundthetableandsayoneinterestingthingaboutourselves.’”Ididabackhandspring.IwasBackHandspringGirl.Itfollowedmetomedschool.I’vetumbledinalotofemptysurgicalhallways.”
“Sara,no.Iamtellingyouno.Don’t.Ican’tbringyouhomewithabrokenwrist.Orankle.Oranything.”
Iwavedthatoff.“JustgobacktopretendingI’mateenagerandyou’reapervert.It’sfine.I’vegotthis.”
Iglancedovermyshoulders,blewoutabreath,andthrewmyfirstbackhandspringinyears.Myformwassloppyandthelandingcouldonlybedescribedasdrunkgirlinuncomfortableheels,andIlaughedasthoughIdidsomethingtrulymiraculous.Ikindoffeltmiraculoustoo.LikeIwasinsideamiraclerightnow.
“IthinkIcanprobablylandaroundoffbackhandspringtoo.Justgivemeasecondto—”
“Weneedtogobacktothebungalow,”Sebastiansaid,jumpingoutofhischair,haphazardlydrapingthesarongovermyshoulders,andmarchingmeupthebeach.
“Why?What’swrong?”Iasked,gigglingasIstruggledtomatchhispace.
Heleanedintomyhip,hisshafthardandhotthroughhisshorts.“IhavesomethingIneedyoutohandle.”
“AndI’mguessingyou’dlikemetobeaggressivewithit.B-Eaggressive,”Isaidinmychirpiestcheerleadercadence.
“Ohmygod,”hegroaned.“Notanotherworduntilwe’reinside,youperkylittledemon.”
“Thenyoudon’twantanygo-fight-win?”Iasked,clappingoutthewords.
“Ohmygod.Sara.Ifyoudon’tshutuprightnow,I—”Hestopped,threwmeoverhisshoulder,andstompedintothebungalow.“You’retryingtokillme.Iknowit.”
“I’mnot,”Icried.
Hebroughthislipstomythigh,pressedasmallbiteintomyskin.“WhenIputyoudown,youtakethissuitoffimmediately.Understand?”
Itriedtopushmyhairoutofmyeyes,buthangingupsidedownmadethatdifficult.“Maybe.”
Hedeliveredalightslapbetweenmylegsbeforeloweringmetothelivingroomrug.“You’lltakeitoff.”
IgatheredupmyhairasbestIcouldwhileSebastiansatonthesofa,hislegswideandahandcurledlooseoverhiscrotch.“IthinkIcanstilldoafewofthejumps.Letmetry.”
“Noooo.Getoverhere.”
Ignoringhim,Ibackeduptostandintheopenspaceofthelivingroom.Imimedthemotionsofatoe-touchjumpbeforedecidingIcouldpullthisoff.IcountedoutthebeatsasIthrewmyarmsintoaT,poppedoffthefloor,camebackdown.“Ican’tbelieveIcanstilldothat!Thankyou,yoga.Didyouseethat?”
“Getoverhere.”Hecrookedafingerandarchedabrow,andmycenterthrobbed.Thatwasallittook.“Andlosethesuitunlessyou’dlikemetoripitoffyou.”
“Thatseemsunnecessary,”Isaid,runningafingeralongtheshoulderstrap.
“Thendon’tmakeitmyonlyoption.”
Iwiggledoutofthehigh-waistedtwopieceandstoodbetweenhisknees.Hedrewahandupmyleg,pushedmythighsapart.Heleanedforward,broughthismouthtomymound.Lickedovermyfolds,circledmyclit.ItwasthekindofattentionthatregisteredasexactlywhatIneeded,butnotnearlyenoughofit.Still,Iwobbledunderhisteasing,hadtosteadymyselfwithahandonhisshoulder.Theacheinsidemewasunlikeanyother.Itcurledandsqueezed,andthetensionmovedoutfrommycenterlikespilledink.Ifeltthatneedinmybelly,mythighs,myass.Itwaseverywhere,clenchingandpulsing,andIdidn’tthinkI’dsurviveifIdidn’tfeelhiminsideme.
Heglancedatme,hisbighandsdiggingintothesoftofmylegs.“Takeyourhairdown.”
“No,it’scrazyfrombeinginthewaterearlier.”
“Iloveitcrazy.”Despiteitbeingatangledmess,Ishookoutmyhairandtossedthescrunchieaside.Heleanedbackagainstthecushions,pattedhisupperthigh.“Righthere.Rightnow.”
SinceIdidn’thavetobeaskedtwice,Iclimbedintohislap,mykneesoneithersideofhimandmybreastsinhisface.Ididn’tdropdown,didn’tconnectwiththethickshafttrappedunderhisshorts.Notyet.“Likethis?”
Henodded,hisforeheadbetweenmybreastsandhishandsonmywaist.“Exactlylikethis.”
“Areyouthinkingabouttheteenagecheerleaderversionofme?”Ilacedmyhandsbehindhishead,siftedmyfingersthroughhishair.“Ortheprivateschoolversionofme?Orisitablendofboth?”
Heshiftedhishead,baredhisteethagainstmybreast.“I’mthinkingaboutthewomanwhoyankedoffherskirt,didabackflipinfrontofme,andfilledmyfantasybankfortherestofeternity.That’swhoI’mthinkingabout.Now,givemethoseperfectlittletits.”
Hebitamarkintothesideofmybreastbeforeyankingmyfacedowntohisandkissingmehardenoughtostealmybreath.WhateverinhibitionsIhadleft,thatkissshookthemfree.Iwasburningfromit,fromtheabsoluteheatofhimallaroundme.Thoughthethoughthadneveroncecrossedmymindbefore,Iknewthiswaswhatitfeltliketobebranded.Tobeclaimed.TobesuchafuckingmessandstillsurrendermyselftohimforsafekeepingbecauseIknewhewoulddoexactlythat.
Itwasagoodthingmybodywastoobusyrockingagainsthiserectionandclenchingaroundnothingrightnowbecausethatthoughtwasenoughtomakemewanttorunthehellaway.Justgetupandgo—goanywhere,anywhereelse,anywherebuthere,whereIcouldbestuckandtrappedandpowerlessbecausethatwaswhathappenedwhensomeoneelsewasincontrol.
“Whateveryou’rethinking,”hestarted,“don’tdoubtthatI’llfuckitrightoutofyou.”
Ireachedforthewaistbandofhisshortswithunsteadyhands,edgedthemdownjustenoughtoallowhisshafttopopfree.“Imightneedyoutodothat.”
Heranhishandovermyhip,aroundtomyass.Drovehisfingersintothesofttissue,shakingasifhewantedtoseehowhardhecouldgripme.Hesuckedanippleintohismouth,sighingandgrowlingashewentonsqueezingme.Ididn’tthinkIcouldenduremuchmoreteasingwhenhedraggedthatnipplebetweenhisteeth,thebarestofbites,andIfistedhiscockbetweenus.
WewatchedasIloweredmyself,ashedisappearedinsideme.Hepushedalltheairoutofme.Allthesensetoo.TheonlythingIcoulddowasgaspdownatus,atthethicknessbetweenmylegsthatledtothesearingheatinsideme.Mythighsshookfromthestrainofthisposition,butIwanteditthisway.Iwantedmyhandsonthosebroadshoulders,myperfectlittletitsinhisface.AndIwantedtobeinchargethistime.Iwantedtofeelitthisway.
Sebastianflexedhisfingersonmybackside,saying,“Ifyoudon’tmoveinthenextsixseconds,Iamgoingtodoitforyou.”
Ishiftedforward,mykneesclosertohishipsnowandhisfingertipsdrillingbruisesintomyass.Ifelthimeverywhere.Eventhepredatorywayhestaredatme,hisjawtense.Ifeltthat—andIfeltlikeI’dbelongedtohimforalifetime,likeeverythingthatwasminehadalwaysbeenhis,andIrealizedIwanteditthatway.IwantedtobepossessedineveryfilthyandbeautifulandpainfullyrealwayIcouldbe,andIwantedhimtobetheonepossessingme.AndthesecretIwasn’tpreparedtosharewithhim—barelywithmyself—wasthatIwantedtopossesshimtoo.Iwantedtoownhimwithallofmysavagery,collecthimandgatherhimupwithallofmyfranticperfectionism.IwantedhimsomuchthatIcouldbarelybreathearoundmydesperationtoescapefromthesetruths.
Everyinchofmewashotandsensitive,andmynipplesneededsomuchattention,theyhurt.“IknowwhatI’mdoing,”Iwhispered.“Justwatch.”
Icouldn’ttearmyeyesoffhimashestareddownatwhereIwasspreadaroundhim,asagulpmovedthroughhisthroat.“IthinkI’mwatchingyoukillmewithyourcunt.”
Imovedmyhips,foundaslow,rollingmotionthatsenthisheadfallingbackagainstthecushions.Hislipsparted,thehandonmyasstightened.“IsthatwhatI’mdoing?”
“Ifyoukillmehere,you’llhavealotofexplainingtodo.Justrememberthat.”
Hebroughthisfreehandtomybreast,swipedathumbovermyachingnipple.Thatswipewentdirectlytomycenter,adeep,gloriousthrobthatsetoffasmallwaveofshiversthatradiatedout,out,out,untilIwastrembling.
Lookingmeoverwiththatsame,oldarrogantgrin,hesaid,“Thatwasquick.”
“It’syourownfault,”Isaid,archingmybackandsinkingdownonhimonceagain.
“I’mawareofthat.I’mdamnpleasedaboutit,ifyoudon’tmindmebeinghonest.”
Hisholdonmyasswasbrutal.Itwaslikehewantedtotearthatpieceofmeoff,keepitforhimself.Ormaybehejustwantedmetorememberhimtomorrowwhen—No.Iwasn’tthinkingaboutthat.Wasn’tgoingthere.Wehadeighteenhoursleftbeforetherealworldcamecalling.Eighteenhoursbeforeweslippedbackintoouroldworld,ouroldcycle,theoldpatterns.Thewayitwasbeforewefoundourselvesonthesameisland.Iwasn’tthinkingaboutthat.Icouldn’t
“I’llgetyouthereagain,”hepromised,goingformynipples.HedrewonebetweenhislipsasIfoundafast,bouncingrhythmoverhim.“Ifwehadthatlittleclitsuckertoy,you’dalreadybethere.”
Iedgedmythighswider,tryingtogethimdeeper.Ineededallofhim,everylastinch.IneededitnowbecauseIdidn’tknowwhatcamenext.“Whydoyoulikemytoyssomuch?”
Heswitchedtotheothernipple,grippedmyassharderstill.“Becauseyoulikethem.”
Ifeltthefirsttwingeoffabricburnonmyknees.Ididn’tcare.“That’snotwhy.”
“Allright,yeah,that’snotwhy,”hesaid,slidinganarmacrossmybackandanchoringmewithahandonmyshoulder.Hejammedmedownhard,almostashardasthecockshuttlingovermyswollenskin,andwecriedouttogether.“Iloveitwhenyou’restrong.Whenyou’rejustfuckingstrong,Sara.AndIloveitwhenyoufallthefuckapartforme,butallIhaveisadickandsomefingersandatongue,soI’lltakeallthehelpIcangetbecauseyoudon’tfallapartthefirsttime.Youneedmetomakeyourbloodpumpsofuckinghardthatyoucan’thearanyofthenoiseinyourhead.Youneedmetobreakyoudown,piecebypiece,untilallyoucandoisblinkupatmewiththosebigeyesandaskformore.Youneedmetodothatforyou,andSara,sweetheart,Ineeditjustasmuch.”
Mykneesburned.Heatbloomedacrossmyface,mychest.Sweatslickedmyback.Myhairwaseverywhere,athickcloudscentedwithsaltwaterandsunscreen.Everythingbetweenuswaswetandslippery.Itwasdesperatetoo,likewewereouttoprovesomething.
Maybethatwasjustme.MaybeIwastheonlyonewhoneededtoprovethiswasperfectinawayI’dneverbelievedperfectcouldexist.Thiswasit,wasn’tit?ThiswastheperfectI’dchased,therightness,theworthiness.AllthevalidationIcouldeverwantwasbetweenmylegs,hardandswearingintomyskinandbruisingmewiththepromisethatthiswasrightandthiswasreal.
“Sara,”hegroaned,hislipsonmysternum.“Comeon,honey.Comeforme.Putmeoutofthismisery.”
Thepressurebuildinginsidemeresembledthatgroan.Itwasaroar,asnarlwaitingtobreakfree.Itwasthekindofscreamthatrippledwithprimalpossession.ThekindofscreamI’dneverdaredtovoicebecauseIwasn’tloud,Iwasn’tdemanding,Iwasn’tthecenterofattention—Iwasn’tanything.
ButnowIscreamed.IscreamedintoSebastian’sskin,intohismouth.Screamedastheorgasmunfurledfrombehindmyclitandwrappedmycenterinabrutalthrob.Ashespearedupintomeagain,again.Asheshookwithme.Asheheldme.CHAPTER28SARA
“We’vebeenhereacoupleofdays,”Sebastiansaidwithagesturetowardtheocean,“andyouhaven’ttriedtodrownmeonce.Ifyou’regoingtodoit,youbettergetamoveon.Thisisyourlastchance.”
Isparedhimaglancebeforereturningmygazetothewater.Waveslappedatouranklesasthesunclimbedoutofthehorizon.IhadlessthanthreehoursbeforeIhadtoleavefortheairport.Ididn’trememberwhyI’dbeensoadamantaboutflyinghomeimmediatelyaftertheconference.Iregretteditnow.ThisfeltlikethelastsecondsofavideogamewherethemusicspedupandthelightsstartedflashingandeverythingwasabouttoendwhetherIwasreadyornot.
“We’vebeenhereacoupleofdaysandyouhaven’ttriedtobeacondescendingasshole.It’syourlastchance.”
Sebastianshiftedabit,dippedhishandsintothepocketsofhisshorts.Ireallyenjoyedtheseshorts,butitwasthebreezylinenshirtsrolledhalfwayuphisforearmsthatdiditforme.ThatIhadn’trippedeverysingleoneclearoffhischestwasworthrecognition.Iwantedthemedalforthat.Restraint,beachylinenwithbaredforearmscategory.
“Youaresuchabrat,”hesaid,softlyenoughthatitseemedlargelyforhisbenefitratherthanmine.
Therewasnosuitableresponseforthiscomment.Iwiggledmytoesinthesandandpretendedtheseweren’tthefinalminutesofourperfectlittleislandbubble.Lifewasalotbetterwithouttherealworld.Eveniftherealworlddidinsistonmeetingmefordinnerandbeingasself-absorbedasalways.
“It’snotbecauseyou’respoiled,”headdedoutofnowhere.“Althoughyouare.You’reabratbecauseyoupushthelimits.”
Savagebitchheart,yourorderisready
“For,well,forever,basically,”hecontinued,“Iassumedthatwasbecauseyoulikedgettingyourway.Youdo,there’snodoubtaboutthat,butnowIthinkyoupushbecauseyouhaven’tgottenyourwayenough.”
Istareddownatthewater,atmytoeshalfhiddeninthesand.Ididn’tsayanything.Somewhereinthepastfewhours,Ilosttheglowyhazeofthiscease-fire.Ifeltnoneofthatglowandtonsofscrappy,agitatedtensionthatseemedtotighteninmychest.Iwantedtorunaway,pushhimaway,doanythingatalltogetawayfromthepressuregrowinginsideme.
Afteramoment,hewenton.“Ilikewhenyoupush.Ilikepushingyouback.”
“Yeah,andthat’salotoffun,butsometimesyoupushthewrongwayandmuchmorethannecessary.”
Heranahanddownmyback.“Isthatwhatyouthink,yousnarkylittlegoblin?”
“It’swhatIknow,”Ishotback.“Youshouldgiveitatrywhenwegethome.Justcutthepompouscommentaryinhalf.”
“That’swhatyouwant?That’stheonlychangeyou’dliketosee?”
Irubbedatoeoverasmoothpebble.“Thatwouldbeenough.”
AgrowlsoundedinhisthroatthoughIdecidedtocommitmyselffullytotheexaminationofthispebble.Itwouldn’tdotogetcarriedawaywithhisgrowlswhenIstillhadtopack.
Then,“Doesthatmeanyouhavenodesiretotakethis”—hewrappedanarmaroundmywaistandshovedhisfingersthroughmyhair,forcingmetoacknowledgehim—”homewithus?”
“Whatof‘this’areyoureferringto?”
Hebentasingleeyebrowandthatwasjustaboutenoughformetoleadhimbackintothebungalowandforgetthisconversation.Toforgetmydesiretorun.Butthenhesaid,“I’drathernothavetoplaypointlessteam-buildinggamesbeforefeelingyouup,andwakingupnexttoyouisworthallyourbrattiness.”
“You’renotgoingtohavetoplaypointlessteam-buildinggameswithmemuchlonger.”
Helaughedintomyhair.“You’regoodatthis.”
“Atwhat?”
“Evading.Dodging.Hiding.Idon’tknowwhyyouthinkyouneedtohidefrommeatthispoint,butyouareverygoodatit.”
“Iamnot—”
“Wedon’thavetimeforyoutobeimpossibleaboutthis.YouhavetoleaveandIhavetoknow.Tellmehowyouwantittobewhenwe’rebackhome.”
Istaredathisshirt,fixatingonthefineweaveofthelinen.“Idon’tknowyet.Ineedsometimetothinkaboutthat.”
Thosewordsseemedtohithimlikeasolidblow.Weweresilentforamoment,butSebastianshookhisheadslowly,asifhewascarryingonadebatetowhichIhadn’tbeeninvited.“Whatistheretothinkabout?”
“Oh,Idon’tknow,howaboutthefactthatbarelymorethanaweekagoweagreedthiswastoxicandweneededabreakfromeachother?”
“Ididn’tagreetothat.”
Ipressedmyhandstohischest.“Thatdoesn’tmakeitanylesstrue.”
“IknowyouthinkyourversionisthecorrectoneandIknowyouthinkyou’redoingtherightthingbyhiding,butyouhavetoconsiderforasinglefuckingsecondthatyoumightbewrongthistime.”
“Andwhatifyou’rewrong?”
“Isitthatbad?”heasked.“AmIthatbad?”
Idroppedmyforeheadtohissternum.Ineededtoshakeofftheoppressiveweightofthismoment.Itwasswellinginsideme,chokingme.“Iamenoughofamessonmyown.Ican’taddanotherouncetoit.”
“Don’tdothat,”herumbled.“TellmeI’macondescendingasshole,tellmeI’mnothingmorethantheguyyouhate-fuckonThursdays.Hell,justtellmeI’manuglysonofabitch.Butdon’tyoudaretellmeI’mgoingtoscrewupyourlife,Sara.”
IliftedmyshouldersasIglancedaround.“Ihaveonequestionforyou.”
Hesiftedhishandsthroughmyhair.“Youknowyoucanaskmeanything.Noneedtodickaroundaboutit.”
“WheneverythinghappenedintheER,andthetwoofuswerehustledoutofthereandupstairstotheChief’sofficewhilewewerecoveredinglassandblood,hecalledyouinfirst.Whatdidyousay?Howdidyouexplainwhat’dhappened?”
Hestaredatme,thecornersofhiseyescrinkledandhisscowlsoftenoughtotouch.“Isaiditwasanaccident.Isaidwe’dhadastronglywordeddiscussionaboutacaseandtherestofitwasamillion-in-oneshot.”
IbobbedmyheadbecauseI’dfiguredthatmuch.Hewouldn’thavecompliedwiththegrouptherapyifhe’dblamedmefortheentiretyoftheincident.“Whatwastheoutcomeofthatconversation?”
“Sameasyou,”hesaidwithaheavingeyeroll.“Eightweeksofcounselingandanemphaticrequesttonotcreatemoreproblems.”
“Exceptitwasn’tthesame,”Isaid.“There’saformalreprimandinmypersonnelfileandIgotalecturefromtheChiefthatincludedtheword‘tantrum’andadetailedreferencetomyfatherandallofhisprofessionalism.Apparentlytherewassomeexpectationofapplesandtheirshortfallfromthetree.”
“That’sbullshit,”hesaid.“Butyouknowit’sinstitutionalbullshit,notbullshitI’vecaused.YouknowthedifferenceandI’mnotgoingtoletyoupretendotherwise.”
“Thesetwomonthshavebeendifficultforme.Thishasbeenstressful,Sebastian.Itoldyoubefore,youhaveallthepower.Ihaveaformalreprimandandaremindertoplaynice.So,whenyouaskmeifit’sbeenthatbad?Yes.Thishasbeenbadforme.HaveIdiscoveredthat,underallyourgrowlsandscowls,underyourarroganceandcontemptfortheentireworld,youarenotthemiserableassholeyouwanteveryonetobelieveyouare?Alsoyes.Yeah,”Iaddedwhenhelookedoutattheocean,“you’renottheonlyonewhoknowshowtohide.”
Amomentpassedwhenitseemedtheonlynextstepwouldbewrestlingeachotherintothewater,butthenSebastianletoutanaggrievedsigh,saying,“Idon’twanttogohometoscreamingateachotheroutsideyourdoorand—”
“Bereal.Youlovescreamingatmeoutsidemydoor.Thathasaprettyhighrateofpositivereturnforyou.”
Thestarehegavemesaidhedidn’tappreciatemyattemptathumor.“Idon’twanttogobacktofuckingandfightingonlytogohomealoneafterward.Fuck,Ireallydon’twanttogobacktowatchingavisitingprofessorhitonyouand—”
“IfyouthinkIamgoingtoanotheroneofthosedinnerparties,you’reinsane,”Imuttered.
“—andnothavetherighttomakeitcleartoeveryonethatyou’remyscreechowl.”
Ishookmyhead.“Isthatsupposedtobeatermofendearment?”
“Idon’twanttowalkdownthehallandhavetopretendIdon’tknowyouinawaynooneelsedoes.Doyouhearmerightnow?BecauseI’mnotpromisingI’llneverfightwithyouagain—god,that’soutofthequestion—butI’msayingitdoesn’thavetobethewayitwas.Wecanstartover—orstartwherewearerightnow.Wecanstartwhereveryouwant,butIneedyoutowantittoo.”
IwassocertainthatIknewmyself.ThatIknewmymess,myperfectionism,mysavagery.IknewwhatIwanted,whatIneeded,andwhatIbelieved.
Iwassocertain.
Untilthismanwithhisdarkeyesanddarkmoodsshowedupandsentmyperfectlittlestackofindexcardsflying.Everylastoneofthem,flying.Itdidn’tmattertohimwhethertheywerecolor-codedandalphabetized,whethersomewerecreasedanddog-earedwhileothersweretapedtogether.He’dscoopedthembackupandhe’dtakengoodcareofthosecards,buthishandlingmeantthey’dneverbequitethesame.
AndIwassoverycertainthattherewassomethingdangerousanddestabilizingabouthiscard-throwingentranceintomylifethatI’dneverconsideredthepossibilitythatI’dchoosetokeephimaround.
Allthosetimeswe’dhurledinsultsateachotherandfoughtoverlittlescrapsofnothing,I’dcodedthatastoxic.Fileditintomydeckofcardsasverybadforme,mustavoid.
Thesex—whichI’dparticipatedinwillingly,whichhadcrushedmypreexistingnotionsaboutpleasureandhowIexperiencedit—hadbeenverygood,butalsoverybad.Itexistedintheriskyborderlandwherehatewasn’thateandenemiescouldfightonthesamesidesolongastheybothgotwhattheywanted.Verybad.Mustavoid.
Andallthosemomentswhenitwasn’tsexorangeroranyoftheotherthingswedidtoeachother,thosewerejustthein-betweens.Thetimeouts.Thecease-fires.Ifwecould’vebeengentleandgenerouswitheachother,wewould’vedonethatfromthestart.
Thosemomentswhenwe’dstoppedbeingawful,theyweretheexceptions.Thiswastheexception.Nothingwe’dfoundherethisweekwastherule.
ThatwashowI’dorganizedtheseindexcards,allwithoutconsideringwhetherIhadanyofitright.WhetherIwassobusybeingamess,aperfectionist,asavage-heartedbitchthatIdidn’tpickuponSebastianplayinganentirelydifferentgame.WhetherIwasallowedtoforfeitmygameandchoosehisinstead,Istillhadtofigureout.
“Ineedtothinkaboutthat,”Isaid.“I—Ijustneedsometime.”
Hegatheredmyhairupinhishands,letitfall.Thenhediditagain.“Time,”herepeated.
“I’msorry,I—”Istoppedmyself.Ididn’thavetobreathelifeintothoseancientachestoday.
Hegatheredupmyhairagain,twisteditaroundhishand.“Whathavethesedaysbeenifnottime?”
“Thishasbeenabreak.Anescapefromourregularlyscheduledmutualhateandloathing.”
“I’veneverhatedyou,”hesaid.
“Sure,youjustdoafantasticjobofpretendingotherwise.”
“I’veneverhatedyou,youcrochetylittlewitch.EvenwhenIwantedtowringyourneck.EspeciallywhenIwantedtowringyourneck.Andyouknowthat.”Hedroppedmyhairandsteppedback,adeepsighrattlingoutofhim.“Whatthehellarewedoing,Sara?Whatdoyouwantustodo?Answermethistime.”
Eventually,Iadmitted,“Idon’tknow.”
HewatchedasIshifted,staredoutattheocean.“Wouldyoutellmewhyit’ssodifficulttoenvisionaworldwherethetimewespendtogetherisn’temployer-mandated?Iwanttounderstandwhythatlookssoterribletoyou,becauseitcan’tbeallaboutinstitutionalbullshitandmepickingonplasticsurgeons.You’retougherthanthat.”
“Hasiteveroccurredtoyouthatrequiringmetobetoughishalftheproblemhere?”
Hesteppedinfrontofme,blockingmyviewofthewater.“It’snothalftheproblem.You’rethetoughestlittlecookieI’veevermetandIknowalotoftoughcookies.Youjusthaven’trealizedthatyoudon’thavetobetoughwithme.”
“Youpickfightswithmeallthetime,”Iyelled.
“Becauseit’sfun,”heyelledback.
“Allthistime,I’vebeenbattlingyouandyou’ve—you’vebeenhavingfun?”
“Andyouweren’t?”
“No!”Icried.
“Thetimeyoupummeledmewithstuffedanimals?Thatwasn’tatinybitfunforyou?”
“Itwas—youknowwhatthatwas,”Isaidimpatiently.
“AndthetimeyoupaidahostesstoaskmeifIwasthemostarrogantsurgeoninthecity?Youweren’thavinganyfunthen?”
“Ididn’thavetopayher,”Irepliedwithasniff.“Shediditforfree.”
“AndwhataboutthetimeyoutriedtodrownmeintheCharlesRiver?Therewasn’tasingledropoffuninthatforyou?”
“YouhavetostopsayingItriedtodrownyou.Yoursleevewasdamp.There’sasignificantdifferencebetweenafewsplashesandholdingyouroverinflatedheadunderthewaterforaprolongedperiodoftime.”
“Andthis?”heasked.“Thisisn’tfunforyou?Notevenalittle?”WhenIdidn’trespond,hewenton,“BecauseIthinkitis,Sara.Youjustdon’twanttorecognizeit.You’resomuchfuntofightwith.Yougetallworkedupandyou’resodamngorgeouswhenyou’refuriousfornoreason,andbecauseyoulikeittoo.Admitit,foronce,thatyoulovebattlingme.Thatyoucanpushandpushandpush,andtheonlythingI’mevergoingtodoispullyourhairandfuckyouharder.”
“Evenifafractionofthatiscorrect—andI’mnotsayingitis—don’tyouthinkIgettiredofthat?”Iasked,stilllouderthananyoneshouldbespeakingonabeachinJamaicaatsunrise.“Don’tyouthinkIwantsomenice,simpleinteractionsthatdon’tinvolvescreamingorbeatingtheshitoutofeachotheratjousting?”
Hebroughthishandstomyshoulders,upmyneck.“No.Ithinkyouwanttobeloud.Ithinkyouwanttobeaswildandpricklyandsweetasyouknowyoutrulyare,andIthinkyouwantsomeonewhoseesthatmessandwantsmoreofit.Whowantsallofit.”
Ineededaminutetothink.Thatwasit,justaminutetothink.Andbreathe.Andalsogetthehelloutofthisconversationandintoaplacewherethismanwasn’tcrawlinginsidemyhead,scoopingupmythoughts,andforcingmetolookthemintheeye.“Ihaven’tpacked,”Isaid.“Ishoulddothat.Now.Soon.Imean,IhavetogosoonandIshouldpacknow.”
“Sara.”Mynamewasasigh.
“Ifyouwanttocontinuetalkingtome,youcandoitwhileIpack,”Isaid,stormingupthebeach.
Ittookmeallofaminutetoreachthebungalowandanotherminutetodragmybagsfromtheclosetandstartshovingmythingsinside.IfIknewanythingaboutfoldingclothesororganizinggarments,itdidn’tshow.No,thiswasfullyslapdashandthatwasthegoal.IwasdoingexactlywhatIintendedandnoonewasgoingtotellmeotherwise.IknewmyselfandIwascertain,sofuckingcertain,ofallthethings.Ihaditallrighthereinmycontradictorylittlepocket.Iwasn’ttryingtoreorientmyentireworldwhilealsogatheringmythingsforinternationaltravel.
IttookseveralmoreminutesforSebastiantoappearinthedoorway,hishairtousledlikehe’drunhisfingersthroughitamilliontimes.Hetippedhisheadtotheside,silentamomentashewatchedmefillthesuitcase.
“Noone,”hestarted,thenthoughtbetteraboutitandpressedhisfisttohismouth.
“Ijustneedsometimetothink.That’sall,”Isaid.Hestaredatmeinawaythatconfirmedheknewmywordswerelittlemorethanbandagesoverbulletwounds.Hesawmeandhewantedme,andIcouldn’tevenbegintoconsiderthatuntilIprocessedthepossibilitythatweweren’tatoxicmistake.Ofcoursewewereatoxicmistake!Butwhatifweweren’t?Whatif…No,Icouldn’tgothere.Notyet.“YouhavetoknowI’mnotgoodatthis.Atbeingwithpeople.Thathastobeobvioustoyouand—”
“NoonewilleverloveyouthewayIdo,”hesaid.
IdroppedthethingsIwasholding.Myhairbrushslidoffthebed,ontothefloor.Onesandallandedinthesuitcase.Iwasn’tsurewheretheotheroneendedup.“What?”
“Youowneveryvalveandchamberofmyheartyetyoucouldleaveheretonightandmeetsomeonewhowillgiveyoueverythingyouneed,everythingyou’veeverwanted.AndI’dbehappyforyoutoo.Doyougetthat?”Hesoundedirritable,likeIwasintentionallymissingthepoint.“I’dbehappyforyou,evenifyouweren’twithme.Youcouldwalkawayfrommenowandtake”—heslappedahandtohischest—”everythingIhavetogiveandkeepitwithyouasproofthatyouaredeservingofalltheloveIhavetooffer.Butyouneedtounderstandsomething,Sara.Thatpersonwhowillloveeveryweirdandstubbornsideofyou?Theywon’tknowthefirstthingaboutfightingwithyouallthewaydowntheCharlesRiverwhileyoudoyourdamnedesttodrownthem,andtheywon’tknowhowruthlessandrelentlessyouarewhenitcomestowinningatteam-buildingexercises.Theywon’tknowtheabsolutepleasureofdyingbyyourhandinbubblesuitjoustingandknowingthatisthebestandonlywaytoleavethisworld.Theywon’tknowanythingaboutarguingwithyouwhiletryingtogetunderyourclothesinafoyerandtheywon’tknowwhentoremindyouoftherightwaytobreatheandtheywon’tknowthatnoonewilleverlovemethewayyoudo.Beforeyoustartscreechingatmeabout—”
“Idonotscreech.”
“—howyou’veneversaidthatyouloveme,letmetellyouthatIdon’tgiveafuckaboutthewords.Idon’tneedthem,Sara.Idon’t.You’vespentthesepastfewdayswithmeandgivenmeeverythingofyourstoholdsafe.Youletmeblockandtackleyourfather.Evenbeforethisweek,youletmedoctoryouatAcevedo’shouseandtuckyouinbeforeIleftyoursweetlittledemonicfaceinbed.Idon’tneedthewords.IalreadyknowwhatIneedtoknow.Ijustneedyoutochooseme.”
Iwasn’tsurewhenIstartedcrying,butthereweretearsstreamingdownmyfaceandtheyweren’tstopping.“Sebastian…”
“Don’tsayanything.Okay?Justdon’tsayanythingrightnow.Gohomeandthinkabout—aboutallofthis.Youwanttime?Takeallthetimeyouneed.Youknowwheretofindme.Butdon’tfindmeuntilyou’verealizedyouarereadytochoose.”
Forasecond,neitherofusmoved.Wedidn’tevenblink.
ThenSebastiancrossedtheroomandcametomyside,hisarmswrappingaroundmeatonce.Hepressedhislipstomytemple.“Idon’twanttobealonewithanyonebutyou.Understand?”
Igaveawaterysniffandnodded.“Yeah.”
Hegavemeabone-crunchingsqueezeandanotherkissbeforesteppingback.IpressedmypalmstomyeyesbecausethiswasnotwhatIwantedfromourlastdaytogether.
WhenIblinkedattheroom,Iwasalone.CHAPTER29SEBASTIAN
Ispenttherestoftheweeksittingonthebeach,wishingSarawaswithme.Iwasn’tsureifitwasanexactmatchbutthisseemedalotlikegoingonahoneymoonalone.Hollow,empty,questioningeveryoneofmylifechoices.Itwascloseenough.
IrereadtheentireChroniclesofNarniaseriesbecausewhatthefuckelsewasIgoingtodo?Iparkedmyassonthatbeach,readbooksIdidn’tactuallylike,andkeptupanargumentwithmyselfastowhetherI’dmadeacolossalerrorindumpingallthatinformationonSarawhileshewasalreadyfreakingout.
IfIwassmart—andweallknewIwasn’t—Iwould’vesaidnothing.Notagoddamnword.WhatIcould’vedonewasacceptthatshewasn’treadyformetojumpinandtakepossessionofthenextfiftyyearsofherlife.Itwasn’tlikeIhadtotellherIlovedherandnooneelsewouldeverbeabletogiveherwhatIwould.Icould’veshutmyfuckingmouth.Icould’vedonethat.Icould’vecontinuedbeingherenemywithbenefits,theguyshefuckedwhenevershewasinthemoodtostopholdingeverythingin.Icould’vebeenthatguyforher.Theonewhogaveherthespacetobefreeandknewhowtowatchwhilefriendsfixedherupwiththerightguys.
IwasnevertheonefriendsfixedupandIknewbetterthantoexpectit.Iwasnevertherightguy.Iwasthewrongguy,thedouchewaffleguy,theegotisticalguy,theguywhoglaredateveryone,theguywhogrowledinsteadofspeaking.Iwasthefuckingworst.Iwastheguywhoflirtedwithunavailablewomen.Iwastheguywhohadn’tcrackedasmileinyears.Iwastheguywhofoundeverythingannoyingandlovedhatingthingsfornogoodreason.IwastheworstguyandIgotthat.Iunderstoodthesituationthoroughly.
Withthatrosyrealityinmind,Iseriouslyconsideredleavingtheislandearly.Iwould’vedonethatifIdidn’tthinkSarawould’veinterpretedthatasanattackonthetimeI’dpromisedher.Sheneededtofigureoutwhatshewantedfromme—ifanything,butplease,god,letitbesomething—andIneededtograntherthattimewithoutimpatientlystompingaroundher.Ineededhertotakethattimeandrealizeshewasasreadyassheneededtobe.
NotthatIevenunderstoodtheissueofbeingready.Hell,she’dbeenreadysincethedaysherippedmyshirtopen.I’dbetanythingshewasstillfindingthosebuttonsaroundherbedroom.Thatperfectlittletyrantknewexactlywhatshewanted.Shejusthadtoclimboutofherheadlongenoughtoletherselfwantit.
***
ItwascoldandwetwhenIlandedinBostononSunday.
Ihatedmyselfforit,butIcouldn’tsuppressthetwingeofdisappointmentthatcamefromwalkingthroughtheterminalandnotfindingSarawaitingthereforme.
IhatedmyselfalittlemorewhenIstompedupthestairstomyapartmentandslammedthedoorashardasIcould,onlytostareatthatdoorforasolidtenminutesinhopesofhercominguptosayhello.
IreallyhatedmyselfthenextmorningwhenIglancedoutthewindowandspottedherchaosbuncrossingthestreettowardthehospital.
ComingtotheairportwasareachandassumingshewasawakewhenIgotinlastnightwaspoorform,butshewould’vewaitedformeinthefoyerthismorningifshewantedtoseeme.
Shedidn’twanttoseemeandtherewasnothingIcoulddoaboutit.Thatwastheprobleminherentinsendingheroffwithanultimatum.Ishould’veknownbetter.
AndIdid.Iknewbetter.Iknewnooneeverchoseme.CHAPTER30SEBASTIAN
IalwaysknewIwasheadedforsomekindofwhole-lifeimplosion,butIneverexpectedascreechowlplasticsurgeonwouldpressthedetonator.
IknewitwouldbebadthoughIhadn’tanticipatedquitethismuchdestruction.Ididn’tthinkI’dgotobedfeelinglikeapittedcherryandwakeupwiththeexactsamethrough-and-throughwoundthenextday—andIdidn’tthinkitwaspossibletoexperiencethatfordaysonend.
TheunfortunatetruthwasthatIcouldn’tavoidSara,notinanypracticalsense,andtryingtoavoidheronlymadethisworseasIneverstoppedthinkingabouther.Itwasbadenoughwithwonderingwhathert-shirtsaidtodayandwhetheritwasacroutondayorshewasbackonthetrailmix,butnowIhadtowatchfromthethirdfloorlandingwhileshewrappedascarfaroundherneckandbuttonedhercoatbeforeleavingthebuilding.IhadtolistenfromaroundacornerwhilesheroundedwithherresidentsandIhadtotakemylifeintomyhandseverytimeIventuredintoastairwell.
Ididn’tliketodevotealotoftimetoflippingthroughtheimplosionsofmypast,butIknewthisonewastheworstofthem.
Wehadthewholedeadbeatdadthingandthathadbeenprettyawful,thoughinallfairnesstomymother,Iwasn’ttheonewhogotfuckedallthewayoverinthatsituation.Shetookthebruntofthatbullshit,butitdefinitelyleftmewiththeknowledgethatthepeoplemeanttoloveyoucouldn’tbereliedupontodothat.They’dleave,andlifewouldbereallyshittyandyou’dalwayswonderwhatyoudidwrong,evenwhenyouknewtherewasnothingvaluabletobefoundbyminingthatcave.
Wehadsomerun-of-the-millheartbreakincollege,thenagaininmedschool,andoncemoreasanintern,andthosehadseemedsignificantatthetime,butnowresembledobviouslypoorchoicesthatendedindramaticifnotinevitableways.Nonetheless,I’ddevotedaloadofenergytoconvincingmyselfthatopeninguptoanotherpersonwasaterribleidea,andthosebreakupsstoodasmyincontrovertibleproof.Theriskoutweighedthereward.Itwasafool’serrandtogolookingforlove.I’dprovenit.
AndthenwehadmytimehereinBostonwhereitwaseasiertobeawreckingballwhosystematicallyflirtedwithanunavailablecolleague—andliterallyeveryoneelsewhocrossedmysightline—thanacknowledgethefactIwaslonelyashell,andmakingsomeuncomfortableeyecontactwiththepossibilitythatthiswasitforme.ThatIwasmeanttobeonmyown.Thatthingswouldn’tmagicallyworkoutandIwouldn’tgrowoutofmybullshit.Thatcollegecheerleading,thequestforonegoodavocado,andtaggingalongwithHartshornandAcevedoandtheirfamilieswasallIhad.ItwasallI’dget.
Ihatedthinkingitwasn’tenoughbecauseitwasalotmorethanmostpeoplehadtotheirname,butitjustfeltsofuckingwrong.LikeI’dmissedaturnsomewhereandnowIwasbarrelingdownawholedifferentturnpikeandheadingintheoppositedirection,buttherewerenoexits,nogettingoff.AndevenifIdidmanagetoturnthisshitshowaround,wherewouldIgo?Saradidn’twantmethewayIwantedher.Shedidn’twantmewhenIwasanassholeandshedidn’twantmewhenI’dpresentedherwithallthethingsI’dneverdaredtosharewithanyoneelse.
Iwastoooldtopickmyselfupandtryagain.Ididn’tcareiffortywasthenewwhateverthefuck.Icouldn’tdothisagain.Icouldn’twaitaroundforanotherpersontoshowmethatIwasright,thepeoplemeanttolovemecouldn’tdothatformorethanaminute.Icouldn’tarrangemyexistenceonasilverplatteragainonlyforsomeonetolookitoverandchoosetowalkaway.
LikeIsaid,I’dproventhispoint.CHAPTER31SARA
OneofthethingsI’dlearnedinthepastfewyearsofgettingmyshitontrackandnotallowingmyselftoself-destructwasthatkidswhogrewupinchaotichomeswereoftenhighlysensitivetothesmallestshiftsintone,behavior,energy.Theylearnedhowtoprotectthemselvesbypickinguponsubtlechangesthatoftenledtobadsituations.Theyknewthepattern.
I’dknownallofmyparents’patterns.Iknewwhensomeonewasgoingtostartanargument,whensomeonewasgoingtostormoutofthehouse,whenI’dneedtoclosemyselfawayinmybedroomandstayquiet.ThepieceIhadn’tnoticed—probablybecauseIwasbusypatrollingtwogrownadultswhowerehookedonthedramaoffightingwitheachother—wasthatIdidn’thaveanywheretoputtheadrenalinethatcamewithallthatvigilance.Ididn’tseethatbingingandthenpurgingwasanattempttocalmmyselfdownafterlisteningtoanotherblowoutfromthepeoplewhoweresupposedtobeincharge.Ididn’trecognizemyritualizedfoodandactivitytrackingasonetiny,hollowattemptatdraggingsomeorderintomylife.Ididn’tnoticethatmyfrantic,obsessiveattentiontoschoolworkandcollegeadmissionswasadesperatedesiretofindanareawhereIcouldearnasteadystreamofvalidationandapproval.
AndIwasn’tawarethatitwasworthidentifyingasareallybadsituationuntilIwasinmyearlythirtiesandmybodywasbreakingdownbecauseI’dconvincedmyselfIcouldoutrun,outwork,outperfectawholelotoffamilygarbage.Thekindofgarbagethatdidn’tstopwhenImovedoutbecausethatstuffknewnolimits,noboundaries.Thekindofgarbagethatshapedme—adoubleboard-certifiedsurgeonwhowasreallyfuckinggoodatherjob—intosomeonewholosthershitattheideaofmeetingmyfatherforameal.Someonewhosefirstinstinctwastogallopintheotherdirectionwhenagoodmanofferedhislove.
AnotherthingIhadn’tunderstoodwasthatpayingattentiontoalltheselittlecuesforallthoseyearsturnedmeintoadysregulatedwreck.I’dbeenworkingonstraighteningoutmynervoussystemforyearsnow.ButIstillhadn’tsortedoutthecontradictioninherentindesperately,desperatelywantingtobedeemedworthy—mypickmeproblem—andrefusingtobelievethatanyonecouldeverwantmebecauseIwasanepicmess.
Wantme,please,thoughyouwon’tandyouabsolutelydon’tsoleavemealoneatonce.
Bigoldmessymess.
ThatwasthestateinwhichIfoundmyselfstalkingthehallsofthesurgicalwingonTuesdayevening.Iwasfinishedwithmycasesfortheday,butIdidn’tknowwhereSebastianwas—andIneededtoknow.
Thethingaboutusgrownkidsofchaotichomeswasweneverstoppednoticingeverything.Maybeweweren’tlivingontheedgeofthatknifeanymore,buttherewasn’tatimewhenwestoppedtuningintotonesandbehaviorsandenergies.
IknewSebastianwasn’tthrilledwithmerightnow,andthatwaswhyIneededtokeepaneyeonhim.NotbecauseIwasconcernedaboutrunningintohim.Notforme.No,myconcernwasforhim.Ihadtomakesurehewasallright.Thewaywe’dpartedinJamaicawasnotthebest,andevenifIcould’vedonebetterinthosemoments,thatdidn’tchangemyneedfortime.AnotherthingIneededwastokeepSebastianinonepiecewhileIworkedthroughthis.AllIhadtodowaskeepaneyeonhim.Fromadistance.Withouthimnoticing.
Nothingmessyaboutthat.
IdroppedmyhandstomyhipsasIstalkedbacktothetopofthehallway.Thereweretonsofhidingspotsinthishospital.IknewbecauseI’dplayedthisexactgamewithhimbeforeandithadtakenmeaneternitytofindhimcampedoutinthatweirdlittleexamroomintheER.
AsIhookedarightdownanotherhallway,Ispottedafamiliarface.Iheldoutahandtostophim.“Hey.Hi.You’rethetraumafellow,right?”
Themangrabbedthebadgeclippedtohiswaist,theonethatannouncedhisnamewasBayO’Rourkeandhewasasurgeon,andhefrownedatitforamoment.Heappearedconfusedbytheinformationhefoundtherewhichwasn’tagreatsign.“Yeah.Iguessso.”
“Right,then,doyouknowwhereIcanfindDr.Stremmel?”
Hisgazesharpenedashestaredatme.“Iknowwhereheis,yeah.”
“And?”Icrossedmyarmsovermychest.“Willyoutellmewhereheis?”
Hegavemeanall-overstudy,thekindthatsaidhedidn’tknowmebuthealreadyknewhedidn’tlikeme.Then,“No,Idon’tthinkIwill.”
Thesefreakingtraumasurgeons.Theyweremadeofstubbornstuff.“Whynot?”
“Let’sjustcallitprofessionaldiscretion,”O’Rourkesaid.“Judgmentcall,youknow?”
Ipressedmyfingertipsundermyglasses,tomyeyelids.Iwasexhaustedyettoowounduptogetmuchsleep.Ijustneededtobuymyselfalittletimeandtheneverythingwouldbefine.Everythingwouldsettledown.“Myprofessionaldiscretionsuggestsyoushouldtellmewheretofindhim.”
“IsthereaspecificreasonIshoulddothat?”
Ididnotneedanymorepowerstrugglesinmylife.Ididnot.“Ineedtocheckonyourboss.Ifyoudon’ttellmewhereheis,Iwillassumeyoudon’tknowandhavebeenwastingmytime.I’dprefertonotwastemytime.”
“Whydoyouneedtocheckonhim?”
“Iseeyou’veconcededtowastingmytime.”Iturnedonaheel,mysneakersquealingagainstthetile.“Thanks.”
Ididn’tmakeittwostepsbeforeO’Rourkecalled,“Isenthimhome.”
Iswungbacktofacehim.“YousentStremmelhome?Arewetalkingaboutthesameperson?BecausetheDr.StremmelIknowtakesordersfromjustaboutnoone.”
O’Rourkelaughed.“Iwouldn’tsayhetakesthem,no,butheneededtogo.”Heshovedhishandsinhiscoatpockets.Itwasobvioushedidn’twanttoelaborate.ItwasalsoobviousIwasn’tleavingwithoutmoreinformation.“Hehasamigraine.Depthperception”—hewavedahandinfrontofhisface—”allfucked-up.Itookhislastcaseofthedayandkickedhimout.Heneedstosleepitoff.”
He’dheldmyhand.
ThatwasallIcouldthink.
WhenIwassickandstruggling,he’dheldmyhandandteasedmeenoughtogetmymindoffmystomach.He’dstayedwithmewhileIvomitedinabushandhe’dgatheredupmyhair,keptitawayfrommyface.Ididn’tknowwhenitwasthatI’dconvincedmyselfIdidn’tneedthat,butIdid.IneededsomeonewhowouldstaywhenIwasn’tprettyorperfect,whodidn’texpectmetoholdmyselfinorsmoothdownanyofmysavagery.
AndifIneededthat,Sebastiandidtoo.
“Okay.Thankyou.”Iwenttoleave,butquicklyrealizedIneededalittlemore.“O’Rourke.DoyouknowwhereDr.Emmerlingisrightnow?”
Heletoutanirritablesnicker.“DoIlooklikeaswitchboard?Wait.No,don’tanswerthat.Forgetit.Noonefrommygenerationshouldknowwhataswitchboardlookslike.EmmerlingwentintotheORthesametimeIdid.Probablyclosingnow,ifshe’snotalreadydone.”
“Thanks,”Icalled.
“Hedoesn’tletmeslackoffwhenhe’sfuckedup,”O’Rourkesaid.“Don’tfuckhimupagain,okay?”
“Can’tpromisethat,”Isaidtomyself.
IcaughtAlexassheexitedfromherOR,herhairintwoperfectlyplaitedFrenchbraidsandaslightimprintonherforeheadfromwearingaheadlampandloupesforhours.
“Ineedyourhelp,”Iblurtedout.
“Canyouwalkwithmetopost-op?”
Igrabbedherbytheshoulders.“Sendyourresidentstopost-op.Youdon’tneedtogowiththem.Theydon’tneedyoutomicromanageandyoudon’tneedtowasteyourtimedoingtheirworkforthem.”
“Wow.Wearehavingsomerealtalkandyou’retellingmehowtogetmyhouseinordertonight.Okay,then,”shemused.BeforeIcouldapologize—mygoodgirlwasdyingfromallthis—shegaveorderstoapairofresidents.Whenshewasfinished,sheleanedbackagainstthewall.“What’sup,babe?”Sheranthebackofherhandoverhermouth.Herstomachgrowledloudly.Itsoundedlikeajunglecat.“Ignorethat.Ijustneedthirtyorfortytacos.I’llbefine.”
Mystomachgaveamatchingcry,thoughthisonewaslessfeedmetacosandmoreallthestresshormonesyou’redumpingintoyourbloodstreamaregonnamessupyourgutfordays
“I’llignoreyours,youignoremine,”Isaid.Thiswasit.Thiswashowabitchleveleduptobestfriendstatus.Outwithitinasurgicalhallwaywhileoneperson’sstomachyelledfortacosandtheother’sthreatenedanirritablebowelwar.“Thatthingyouaskedmeabout?WithStremmel?Yes.Okay?Yes.Forthepasttwomonths.”
Withbothhands,shemimedanexplosion.Then,“That’sawesome.Ilikebothofyou.NowIgettolikeyoutogether.”
“Really?Oh—Imean,thankyou?”Iwavedthataway.“YoutoldmeoncethatyouhadkeystomyplaceandStremmel’s.ThatHartshornandAcevedohadgiventhemtoyoubackwhentheylivedinthebuilding,andifIeverneededsomeonetowaterplantsorbethereforadelivery—”
“Right,right.Yeah.”Shefrowned.“Youneedmykeys?Why?IfthesoundsI’veheardcomingfromyourplaceareanyindication,Ithinkhe’llbehappytoseeyou.”Theshockmust’veregisteredonmyfacebecauseshepushedofffromthewallandwrappedanarmaroundmyshoulders.“WhatImeanttosaywaslet’sgodowntothelockerroomandI’llgetyouthatkey.Also,goodforyou.Iknowyou’resuperprivateandIhavetoremindmyselftorespectthat—”
“It’sdifficultforme,”Isaid.“Beingopenwithpeople.Privateissomuchsimpler,youknow?Icankeeponpretendingthateverythingisfine,everythingisjustasperfectasitlooksontheoutside,andnoonehastoknowaboutthemessontheinside.”Iranafingeracrossmyforehead.“I’manenormousmess,Alex.Somuchofmeisamess.Itdoesn’tevenmakesensehowmuchofamessIam.Howisanyoneallowedtobemyageanddothisjobandalsobe”—Iwavedahandatmyscrubs—”heldtogetherwithnothingmorethanastretched-outhairtieandfivedozenwonkymedicalt-shirts?”
Shegavemyshouldersasqueeze.“I’dgivemylefttitforyourt-shirtcollection.”
Iblinkedfastandsuckedinadeepbreath.Iwasnotgoingtocryatwork.Iwasnotgoingtocryatwork.“Well,you’dneedtogivethattitjusttofitintomyt-shirts.HowdidyougetalltheboobandIgotnone?”
Sheshrugged.“It’snotlikeitdoesmeanygood.”
“YoumakeitseemlikeIdon’tlivedownstairsfromyou,”Isaid.“I’veheardwhatyourhusbandhastosay.Iownthreewhitenoisemachinesandkeepthemrunningallthetimeforthatexactreason.”
“Ahhh.That’swhyitwasallsomuffled,”shesaid.“Itsoundedlikeyouweregettingpoundedinanaquarium.Iwasveryconfused.NotthatIwaslisteningcloselyoranything.Iwasawareoftheeventsinanabstractsense.Abstractonly.AlthoughIwaslike,‘Goodforher.GoodforShap.Getsome,girl.Youdeserveit.’”
Aloud,ganglylaughburstoutofme.“Ican’tbelievewe’retalkingaboutthis.”
“Doesn’titfeelgoodthough?”Shesteeredmedownthehall,awayfromtheoperatingrooms.“Toactuallysaywhatyouwantinsteadofwhatyoushould?Don’twastethatkindofenergyonme,okay?Whetheryoulikeitornot,Ineedyou.Ineedagirlsurgeonfriend,butmoreimportantly,Ineedyou—theverysmart,verysophisticatedmesswhojumpsinthemiddleofmemicromanagingmyresidentsandletsmemakeafoolofmyselfintextmessages.”
“Thankyouforsayingthat,”Isaid.
“I’mnotjustsayingit.YoushouldknowI’mamesstoo.Whateveryouhave,Ihaveitinadouble-Dcup.”
Iwaspreparedtoarguethispoint.Totellhertherewasnowayshecouldhavethesamefucked-upsouvenirsIhad,butthenIrealizeditdidn’tmatter.Itdidn’thavetomatter.Ididn’thavetoletthemessmatter.“Thanks,Alex.”
“Noproblem.”Whenwereachedthelounge,shemarchedtowardherlockerandfishedherkeysfromherbag.“AreyoustagingasurpriseattackonStremmel?”
“Weneedabitoftime,”Isaid,flutteringmyhandsbecauseIdidn’tknowwhatelsetodowiththem.“Apart,thatis.ButIhavetocheckonhim.”
“Doyouactuallyneedtimeapartorisitsafertoputdistancebetweenyourselfandbigfeelings,andcallittime?”
Ifetchedmycoatfrommylocker,scarftoo.“Inthisinstance,Ireallyneedtodosomething.IneedtoproveIcandosomething.Andbigfeelingsarecompletelyterrifying.”
Shebobbedherheadassheunthreadedthekeyfromthering.“Don’tproveyourselfoutofagoodthing.Isaythatwithzerocontextonyoursituationandalotofhistorywithmyowndesiretoprovepoints.”Sheheldoutthekey.“Makechoicesthatscareyou.They’rethebestones.”
***
Itdidn’toccurtomeuntilreachingthelandingoutsideAlex’ssecondfloorapartmentthatIhadnoplantospeakofforthisvisit,noideahowIwasgoingtoexplainmypresence.Therewasnowayaroundit:IwasbreakingtherulesSebastianhadestablishedlastweekinJamaica.
Iknewhedidn’tunderstandwhyIneededthistimeandIcouldn’tjustifythattohimrightnow,butIcouldbethatpersonwhostayedwithhimwhileheneededit.Ididn’tknowforsurethoughitseemedlikethatwasbetterthanjustifyinganything.Or,Ihopeditwas.
WhenIarrivedonthethirdfloor,IwasshockedtofindthatIcouldseestraightdowntothefoyerfromhere.Thestaircasewounditswayupthebuilding,aperfectovalofrailingsandoverlooks,andIshould’vemadethisconnectionsoonerthoughI’dmissedit.I’dmissedsomuch.
“Sebastian?”Iknockedonthedoorandwaitedaminute.
AspikeofdoubthitmewhenIpushedthekeyintothelock.Thiscouldbeanenormousmistake.Hecouldhatemeforinvitingmyselfintohisspacewhenhe’dneveronceaskedmeuphere.Andmaybehewantedtobealone.Itwasn’tlikeIwantedanyonearoundtowitnessatrulyterribleirritablebowelflare.Therewouldbenohandholdingthroughthat.
“Ifhewantstobealone,he’lltellmethat,”ImurmuredtomyselfasIturnedthekey.
Theapartmentwasdark,theonlylightcomingfromthestreet-facingwindows.IclosedthedoorassoundlesslyasIcouldmanageandusedthebrightnessfrommyphone’sscreentoorientmyself.Ifoundabreadcrumbtrailofouterwearandshoesleadingintothekitchen,adeep,brick-walledgalleyblockedbyapairoflegsinnavybluescrubs.Heheldhisforeheadinonehand,hiselbowintheother.
Idroppedtomykneesbesidehim,ranahandoverhisscruffyjaw.Hekepthiseyesclosed.Ifhewassurprisedbymyappearancetonight,hedidn’tshowit.“Whatdoyouneed?”
“Nothing.”
“Thatcan’tbetrue,”Iwhispered.“You’resittingonthefloorandmakinglikeyouintendtostayhereformorethanaminute.Tellmewhatyouneedrightnoworexpectmetousemyownmethodstofigureitout.”
Ifherecognizedthosewords,hedidn’tleton,givingasingleshakeofhishead.Then,heleanedhischeekintomypalm.Westayedthere,silentwithhisskinwarmagainstmine.Afteraminute,Itookhiswristinhand,foundhispulse
“Don’tdoctorme,”herasped.
“Sorry,haveto.Idon’tmaketherules.”Ireachedfortheprescriptionbottlessittingopenonthecountertop,readthelabels.“Howlonghasitbeensinceyoutookthese?”
“Don’tknow.Anhour,maybe?Youdon’thaveto—whatever.Youdon’thavetostay.”
Ignoringthat,Iputthelidsonthebottlesandgavehimaquickstudy.“Doyouusuallyneedtosleepitoff?”
“Yeah.”Hehookedanarmaroundmywaist,caughttheedgeofmyt-shirtbetweentwofingers.Histouchwaslight,likethewayyouembracedsomeoneyoubarelyknewandhadn’tseeninages.Hello,youresemblesomeoneImetinanotherlife.Areyouthatsameperson?Willyoubethatpersontoday?
“Thenweneedtogetyouoffthefloorandoutofthoseclothes.”Iknewhereallydidn’tfeelwellbecausethatlastremarkearnedneitheranarchedeyebrownoranamusedscowl.“Canwedothat?”
“Areyouhererightnow?”heasked,thosetwofingersclingingtomyshirtbecomingafistatthesmallofmyback.“Isthisactuallyhappening?”
“No,I’mnothere,”Iwhispered,pushinghishairoffhisforehead.“Notyet.”
“But,Sara—”
“Shh.Letmeputyoutobed.Okay?Letmedothat.There’snothingelseforyoutoworryabouttonight.”
Therewasasecondwhereitseemedlikehewantedtopushback,wantedtopushmeaway.IknewbecauseIdidthesamething.Then,heflattenedhishandonmyback,saying,“Myrighteyeisadiscoball.Iwasgoingtostayputuntilitresolved.”
Istood,heldoutmyhandstohim.“I’mnotallowingyoutogoforwardwiththatplan.”
Hegavemeseveralsolidmomentsofdefiancebeforegaininghisfeet.Withaheavyexhaleandablinkthatmadeitclearhehaddoubtsabouteverything,heslippedhishandintomine.
Wemadeourwaytowardhisbedroom,slowerandmoreunsteadythanI’dexpected.Ihelpedhimoutofhisclothes,eventhoughhehuffedaboutit,andpulledbackthecoversonhispristinelymadebed.
Hepressedathumbtohistempleasheasked,“Areyouleavingnow?”
Ialmostlaughedatthewaythosewordscrackedoutofhiminawhisperedchallenge.“Coldorheat?”Iasked.“Doeitherhelp?”
Withhisboxersridinglowandhishipcocked,anarmbandedacrosshischest,andthatthumbstillgrindinghishead,helookedlikeanangryunderwearmodel.Eventually,hesaid,“Ice,sometimes.”
Ipointedtothebedbywayofcommand.“I’llberightback.”
Inthekitchen,Ifoundareusablecoldpacketandadishtowel,andfilledaglasswithicewater.Thoughitwasdark,IcouldseeenoughofthespacetorealizeSebastian’sapartmentwasruthlesslyclean.Ruthlessly.Aplaceforeverythingandeverythinginitsplace.Icouldperformsurgeryhere.
Heprobablyhatedmyapartment.Itlookedliketheinsideofmyhead—alotofcontradictorythingshappeningallatonce—andIkindofloveditthatwaybecauseitwascomfortableandmademefeellikeIcouldfollowwhicheverrulesIwanted.ButIlikedthistoo.Itwastheexactoppositeofmyhomeyettherewassomethingfreeingaboutthecompleteabsenceofstuff.Icouldseethewalls,thecountertops,thefloors.NightwastoofarsetintoknowforsurebutIhadtobelievethewindowswouldjustgushwithsunlightinthemornings.Therewasnowheretohidehereand—maybethiswaswhyIlikeditsomuch—noreasontohide.
Ididn’thavetobeperfect.Ididn’thavetobegood.Ididn’thavetobeanythingatall.Nothingmorethanmeandallthemessthatcamewithme.
Theprescriptionbottlesloiteringinthemiddleofthecountertopweretheonlysignthatlifewasn’twithoutitsburstsofdisorder.Igatheredthemupandtuckedthembesidethesink.ItwastheleastIcoulddo.
WhenIreturnedtothebedroom,IfoundSebastiansprawledonhisbelly,theblanketspooledathiswaistwhilehepinchedhisbrowbetweenhisthumbandforefinger.Isetthewaterdownandcrawledinbesidehim,mybackagainstthegrayupholsteredheadboardandmyanklescrossedinfrontofme.Ibroughtthetowel-wrappedcoldpacktothenapeofhisneck.“Tellmeifthisistoocold.”
“It’sokay,”hemurmured.
Holdingthecoldpackinplace,Idraggedmyfingersthroughhishairandscrapedmynailsoverhisscalp.Atfirst,itdidn’tseemlikeanyofthiswashelpingsincethecornersofhiseyeswerestillcreased,hislipswerestillpulledtight,andhisbreathingwasquick.IwasextremelyreadytotakemyphoneintotheotherroomandcallmyfriendJill,aneurologistI’dlivedwithduringmedschool.Butthenhisshoulderssaggedandaheavybreathshudderedoutofhim,andheshiftedhisheadtomylapandtangledbotharmsaroundmywaist.
“Willyoukeepdoingthat?”heasked.
“Ofcourse.”
Isleptsittingup,hisheadinmylapandmyhandnumbfromholdingthecoldpack.Hedidn’tnoticewhenIslippedoutbeforedawn.Itwasbetterthatway.Icouldn’texplaineverythingtohimnow,notyet.
Butsoon.CHAPTER32SEBASTIAN
Ididn’tknowwhatdayitwas.Imean,Icouldlookdownatmywatchandseethedateandtimeatanymoment,butnoneofitmattered.Itwasjustanotherday,anotherstumblethroughthedaylighthours,anotherlongstareintothenight.AnotherroundofwaitingforSaratoinviteherselfintomyapartment,intomybed,evenifshedisappearedbeforedawnthenextmorning.Anotherreminderthatexpectationswerestupidandonlykickedmeintheass.
Ididn’thavetheluxuryoftakingaweekofftoswimaroundinmymisery,seeingasIwasfreshoffaweekaway,anditwasn’tliketimespentsufferingonmysofawhilesurroundedbyrottingtakeoutcontainerswouldhelpmatters.Andtherealupsideofsurgerywasthatitextinguishedeverythingelsefrommymind.Iwasn’thungryortiredorsoreorbrokenthefuckapartwhenIwasworkingacase,andIlovedthat.Ineededthat.
I’dthoughtIwasdoingadecentjobofconcealingmyhollowed-outexistencefromanyonewhomightnotice,butNickAcevedowantedmetoknowIwaswrongaboutthat.Withoutaskingasinglequestion,themanyankedmeupbythescruffandorderedmeintorunningshoesandenoughlayersthatIwouldn’tcomplainaboutthefreezingNovemberwind.Thenheforcedmetorunforeightgruelingmilesandhadtheballstochataboutfootballthewholeway.Hewascontentwithaone-sidedconversation.
Formypart,Ileanedintothemisery.Itfeltgoodtofeelsoawful.Italmostcameasarelief,asifIfinallycouldpinmyemotionalachestosomethingreal.
Aftercleaningourselvesup,NickdraggedmehomewithhimtoCambridge.Hedidn’taskwhathappenedorwhyIwasgivingeveryonethemostvilescowlsinmylonghistoryofscowling,andthatsuitedmewellenough.
Butthenhedepositedmeonastoolathiskitchenisland,gesturedtohiswife,andsaid,“Thisisaproblem.”
Erinlookedmeoverwithaconcernedfrown.“Icanseethat.”
HegatheredherupinatighthugandwhisperedsomethingtoherIcouldn’thearwhileherubbedherback.Icouldn’twatch.Ihadtolookaway.Ididn’tgettohuganyonewhenIcamehomeatnightandIdidn’tgettoglancedownatasilkyblouselikeitwassomethingmarvelousandIdidn’tgettohavesecretconversationsinthemiddleofthekitchen.AllIhadwasablanketonmysofathatwasreasonablycozyandasoundsystemthatwouldtellmehowlongtobakeapotatoandwhethertheLakerswereplayingtonight.
ToErin,Nicksaid,“I’mgoingtogetdinnerstarted.Allhe’sdoneiscomplainaboutthewind—”
“It’sverycold,”Icried.“It’sdarkattwointheafternoonandnoonepaysanyattentiontothewindchill.”
“—butIhavetobelieveyou’rerightabouteverything.Ithastobe.I’veneverseenthislevel”—Nickgavemeaquickstudy—”before.I’mgonnaneedyoutodigdeepintoyourtoolboxtofixhim.”
Ifoldedmyarmsonthecountertopandpillowedmyheadthere.“Whatareyourightaboutthistime,Walsh?”
“SomethinghappenedbetweenyouandSara,”shesaid.“Somethingthat’shurtingyourheartrightnow.”
Inodded.Noreasontodancearoundthetruth.“Ifellinlovewithher.Iaskedhertomakeachoice.She’snotready.That’sit.That’sallitis.”
“Whendidthishappen,Sebastian?”Erinasked.“TherewasthetimeIsawyoutwotogetherhere,butwhendiditstart?”
“Abouttwomonthsago,”Isaid,“andalsotwoyearsago.Ijust—Idon’tknow.It’sover,sothetimelinedoesn’tmatter.”
“No,no.Imean,whendidtheseissuescomebetweenyou?”sheaskedassheopenedtherefrigerator.ShegesturedtoabottleofbeerandInodded.Ihadn’ttrieddrowningmyproblemsyet.Thatcouldbeafinesolution.
“ItstartedlastweekinJamaicaandthenittookaturnfortheworseMondaymorning,”Isaid.“AndhereIamnow,intopfightingshape.”
“ShapwenttoJamaicawithyou?”Nickasked.Hepoppedthetoponthebeerandsliditacrosstheislandtome.
“Yeah,butalsono.It’scomplicated.Shewasthereforaconference,”Isaid.“Westayedatthesameresort.WehadsomereallygreatdaysandIgottotellherdadhe’sadick,butsheisn’treadyforthistobemorethan—”Iblewoutalongbreath.“Whatever.Mylifebasicallyimploded.It’scool.”
NickgrinnedatErin.“ItoldyouitwasabadideatotrysettingherupwithMalakai.”
“Letitgo,Nick,”shesaidwithalaugh.
“Thatonefuckin’hurt,”Iadmitted.“Justdomeafavoranddon’tsetherupinfrontofmeanymore,okay?Iknowshe’sgoingtobearoundandIgottadealwiththat,butdon’tblindsideme.Also,itwouldbegreatifwecouldkeepthisbetweenthethreeofus.Wecannothaveanyonetakingsidesorbringingthisuptoherinanyway.Notonlywouldshereachdownmythroatandripoutmyorgans,she’dhatemeforputtingherinasituationwhereshehastotalktopeople.”
“That’snotaproblematall,”Nicksaid.“Hartshornisn’tgoingtonoticeadamnthing.He’sgothishandsfullthesedays.IknowShap’sclosewithEmmerling,butEmmerlingwillthrowdownwithanyonewhocrossesher.NoonewillmakeitawkwardforShap,Ipromise.”
“Ifyouwanttoinviteheroverhere,youhavetobechillaboutit.Okay?Youcan’tcallupthesquadandgeteveryoneinonthepeerpressure.Itstressesherthefuckout.She’snotgoingtotellyouthat,butsheblewupmychestcavitysoIhavenofilterleftinme.”IpointedthebeerbottleatErin.“Andifyouwanttohangoutwithher,askhertogoshoppingoroutforawalkorwhateverwomendotogether.Keepitsmall.Notjustthebigdinnerparties.”
Erintouchedherfingerstomyforearm.Shewascoldfromholdingthebottleofsparklingwatershe’dpluckedfromthefridge.“Slowdownforasec,okay?You’respinningout.”
“IfIdon’ttellyouthisnow,whenamIgoingtotellyou?Thisismychance,Erin.I’mfallingthefuckapart,somightaswellletitallgo.”
“Slowdown.Youarenotfallingapart.Youarenotcavinginonyourself.”Sheheldupawarninghandandleveledmewithastareovertherimsofherglasses.“Let’sputthisinperspective.Let’sthinkaboutitandpullallthewayback,outofthissingleunpleasantmoment,outofthisday,outofthisplaceandtime.”
Igulpedthebeer.“Areyougoingtotellmesomethingridiculousandobscurenow?Willitkickmyass?”
Sheliftedhershouldersandletthemfall.“Youareasgoodasimpossible.”
“Yeah,Iknow.Igetthatfrequently.Nick’ssaidittomeamilliontimes,”Ireplied.
“No.That’snotwhatImean,”shesaid.“Youarenearlyimpossible.”Shebroughtherhandstoherchest.“Iamnearlyimpossible.Allofus,nearlyimpossible.Thatwearealiverighthere,rightnow,issuchapracticalimpossibilitythatitmakeseverythingelseseeminsignificant.WhenIpullallthewaybackandIgatherupthecontentsofthisuniverseaswecomprehendit,Iseetheexistenceofus—andourgreatstrugglesinthatexistence—aswildaccidents.Thereareentiregalaxiesforminganddyingbeyondus,allwhilewearehereinthismoment,stumblingaroundinthesefleshy,emotion-filledbodies.Wearegrainsofsand,weareaccidents,weareridiculousmiracles—andthisistheone,outrageouslyimpossibleexistenceweget.”Shetwistedthebottleofwateropen.“So,we’renotgoingtoletonehiccupgetinourway.We’renotgoingtoletitendus.We’renotgoingtostopstumblingaround.We’renotgoingtostopfeelingeverything.Andwe’renotgoingtoforgetthatweareimpossibleinthebestway.”
Istaredatherforaminuteasherwordssettledoverme.“Yeah.Okay.”
“Thatwasn’tenough,”shemurmured.
Ishrugged.Ireallylikedthiswoman—inanextremelyplatonicway,itwasworthnoting—andIlivedforherweirdstories.ButthefactIwasamathematicalimprobabilitywasn’tgettingmewhereIneededtogotonight.Intruth,IneededtogotoapinkglassandtealvelvetapartmentandwrapmyselfaroundaheartbeatthatIwantedmorethanmyown.“Itwasgreat.”
“WhatabouttheMarieAntoinettestory?Theonewiththecroissants.Ilikethatone,”Nicksaid.
“Historydoesn’tworkonhim,”shesaid.
“Itdoesn’t,”Iagreed.“Sorry.”
“Icandobetter,”shesaid,herfingersonhertemples.“Givemeasecond.”
“Really,youdon’thaveto,”Isaid.
“Yeah,Erin,he’sright.Youdon’thavetodothat.Itwouldalsomakemeveryhappyifyou’djustsitdown,”Nicksaidfromthestove.“Don’tworryaboutthisguy.Heneedsacoupleofbeers,agoodmeal,andsomesleep.He’llshakeitoffinthemorning.”
“Isthattheremedy?”Iaskedhim.“Whyhadn’tIthoughtofthat?”
“Becauseyou’rebusylurkingaroundcorners,”hereplied.“You’refreakingthesurgicaltechsout,youknow.”
“Idoubtthat,”Ireplied.
“Doubtitallyouwant,butmycirculatingnursesaidyouwerebeingapainintheass.”
“I’malotofthings,butI’monlyageneralpainintheass.Ikeepmybullshithigh-level.I’mneverapainintheasstonursesortechs,”Isaid.“Ilearnedmylessoninthatarenaalongtimeago.”
“I’vegotit.”Eringrabbedmyarm,turnedmyhandoverandpointedattheinsideofmywrist.“Whatisthat?Thatblueline?”
“Areyouseriouslyquizzingmeonanatomy?Radialartery.Forfuck’ssake,Walsh.”
“Andwhat’sthatarterypumping?”
“Okay,so,thisisaquiz,”Imuttered.“Wow.Didnotexpectthatfromyou.Arteriespumpoxygenatedblood.”
“Andwhat’sbloodcomposedof?”
“Well,you’vegotyourredandwhitebloodcells,yourplasma,yourplatelets.”Istaredather.“Why?Idonothavethestrengthtodonatebloodtonightifthat’swhereyou’regoingwiththis.Thereisn’tenoughjuice.Notenoughcookies.”
“BecauseIwanttotalktoyouabouthemoglobin.”Shemadeitsoundlikethemostobviousthingintheworld.“It’sastructurebuiltonfourironsubunits.”
“Ohmygod,Erin.Areyoutellinghimtheironstory?”Nickcalled.“Youdon’thavetodothat.Isitreallythatbad?Idon’tthinkso,honey.Idon’tthinkyouneedtodigthatdeepintothetoolbox.”
“Ithinkthesituationrequiresit.”ShegaveasagenodandnowIknewIwasinsomeshit.“Thisplanetishometoloadsofironandthat’sagoodthingbecauseit’sessentialtosustaininglifeforhumans,plants,andanimals.ButwhenIstopandthinkaboutironthough,I’mremindedoftheviolentdeathinitscreation.”
Icurledtheendsofmysleevesintomyfists.“Wait,what?”
“Irondoesn’tbelongtous,”shesaid.“Itbelongstotheheartofadyingstar.”
“Herewego,”Nickmuttered.
Shetappedthebluelinesrunningupherarm.“Onceuponaverylongtimeago,aredgiantstardigestedallitsheliumandturneditintooxygenandcarbon,whicheventuallymorphedintoiron.Allthatironturnedthestarintoasupernovaandthenitsheartburnedoutthelastofitsfuel.Therewasamassiveexplosion,thelikesofwhichwecan’tevenimaginebecausethepowerandbrightnessexceedsanythingweknowinthisworld.Butthatexplosion—thestar’sdeath—sentironatomsflyingthroughspacealongwithoxygenandcarbon.Gravitygotinonthegameandroundedthemupintotheplanetsweknowtoday.Thecoreofthisplanetisbelievedtobemostlymolteniron.It’sinsideusandallaroundusandlifewouldn’tcontinuewithoutit.”
Iranahandovermymouth.“Shit.”
“Youaremadeofstars.They’reinsideyou,andevenonyourworstday,theydon’tstopshiningforyou.Don’teverforgetthat.”
Ibobbedmyhead,gulpeddownawholelotofemotionthatseemeddisproportionatetoastoryabouthemoglobinandsupernovas.“Shit.”
“Yeah.Right?Imean,sometimesIthinkaboutthecreationoftheuniverseandhoweverythingmatters,butalsonothingmatters,and—”
“Allright,”Nickinterrupted,droppingahandtohiswife’sshoulderandpullinghertohisside.“I’mcallingthismeetingofthesadandbroodykidsclubtoanendforthenight.Y’allcanwaituntilnextweektodipintotheexistentialismandthenihilism,okay?Thankyou.”Heshookhisheadatme.“Idon’tknowwhyIbringyouhomewithmesometimes,Stremmel,butyouhavethedyingstarstorynow.Everything’sgoingtoworkout.”
“Isthatwhathappensaftershetellsthestarstory?”Iasked.
“No,”headmitted.“Butthingsdon’tusuallygetworse.”CHAPTER33SEBASTIAN
Milanaglancedatmebeforecuttingasubtleglimpseatthewallclockovermyhead.Patiencepulledatthecornersofherlips,whichwasgenerousconsideringmyexpressionhoveredsomewherearoundtwentydegreesbelowfreezing.MyheadwasstillkillingmesofrozenwasthebestIcouldoffer.Thiswasmybest.
“I’msureDr.Shapirowillbealonganyminute,”Milanasaid.“It’snotlikehertobelate.I’msureshe’dsendwordifsomethingwaskeepingher.”
Iliftedmybrow,givinghersomeyouhavenoideawhatthiswomanisabouteyes.Hell,Ididn’tknowwhatthiswomanwasaboutandI’ddedicatedafuck-tonofmylifetofiguringherout.WhatdidIhavetoshowforit?Notawholelot
Milanagaveaslightlylesssubtleglanceattheclockbeforereachingforherphone.Shetappedthescreenandstartedscrolling.Istaredatmyhands.ThiswasthelasttimeSarawouldberequiredtospeaktomeandfuckifthatdidn’tscaretheshitoutofme.Shecouldmoveoutofthebuilding,shecouldleaveBostonaltogether.ShecouldgoandI’dalwaysbethefoolwhodroppedwaytoomuchonher,waytoofast.
“Yeah,”Iagreed.“She’sprobablyonherway.”
Then,infull-bloodedform,Sarablewintotheoffice,herhairpushingthelimitsofwhatcouldbeconsideredabun,herblackglassesaskew,astethoscopethisclosetofallingoffherneck,andhercheeksflushedpink.
“Sorry,”shewheezed.“Sorry.Iwasontheelevator.Itwentuptofive,thendowntoone,thenbacktofive.Wouldn’tstopanywhereelse.Superweird.Finallygotoffatone.Tookthestairs.Somanystairs.”
“It’sallright,”Milanasaid.“We’rejusthappyyou’reabletojoinus.”
IwatchedSaraasshedroppeddownontothesofa,hercheststillheaving.TheelevatorissuehaddistractedhertothepointthatsheseemedtoforgetIwascloseenoughtoseetheoutlineofherbraunderhert-shirtandthetiny,wispycurlsthatcongregatedatthebackofherneck.It’ddistractedherenoughtoforgeteverything.Somehow,thatwassomethingshecoulddo.
Ididn’thavethatparticularsuperpower.
Milanaglancedbetweenus,somekindofinterestwrittenonherface,butnothingIcoulddecoderightnow.Ididn’tcaretodecodeit.Icouldn’ttakemyeyesoffSara.Inevercould.
“OftentimeswhenIreachtheendofatherapeuticrelationship,Ifinditvaluabletoreflectonwherewestarted.IhopethatyouarebothabletoseethechangesandprogressthatIsee.Let’sstartoffbyidentifyingsomeofthatprogress.”
Sarablinkedoveratme,thenquicklyaway.Shereachedintohercoatpocketforherphone,clickeditovertosilent.Whythathurtsofuckingmuch,Ididn’tknow.Maybeitwasthecasualdismissal.MaybeitwasthefactherhandswereshakingandIwantedtotaketheminmine,evenifitmeantI’dhaveanotherregrettoaddtothepilelater.
SinceIhadnorestraint,Isaidtoher,“You’regoingtolosethatstethoscopeifyou’renotcareful.”
“Yes,I’dmostcertainlyloseitwhilesittinghere.Itwouldfalloff,disappearintotherecessesofthissofawithoutmynotice,andI’dneverseeitagain.Highlylikely.”
“Whydoyouevenwearthatthing?Youareasurgeon.Howoftendoyouactuallyuseit?Andwhatthefuckdoyouhaveresidentsforifnotborrowingastethoscopefromthemasneeded?”
Shegavemeanothersidelongblink.“Isthatwhatwe’vedecidedtoharpontoday?Myaudacioususeofastethoscope?Orwouldyouratherdelveintothematterofourdifferingphilosophiesonthetrainingandfunctionofresidents?”
Ifoldedmyarmsovermychest.“I’mjustsayingyoudon’tneedit.”
“ThenIsupposetheproperwaytoconductmyself,inyouresteemedopinion,iswithoutanytoolsorresourceswhatsoever.”Shegesturedtome,saying,“Nowhitecoat,nostethoscope,nonotebook,nopens.Justabadgeandabody.”
Iopenedmymouthtorespondyetstoppedmyself,allwhileMilanaregardedmewithaslightgrinthatseemedaltogethertooentertainedformytaste.Eventually,IshiftedfractionallytowardSaraandasked,“Whatdoyouevenhaveinthere?”
Shesetthestethoscopeonthesofabetweenusandthenpeeredintohercoatpocket.“Phone,pager,somepens.”
Assheheldupeachone,Ipluckedthemfromherfingersanddepositedthemonthecoffeetable.Itwasafunwaytoavoidmakingprolongedeyecontactandwewerenothingifnotgreatatgames.“Whydoyouneedthismanypens?Again,residents.Interns.Thosearethepeoplewhoneedtohavepens.”
“That’s—that’snothowIwanttogothroughlife.Thatmightworkforyou,butIlikepens.I’mkeepingmypens.”Shereachedintoherotherpocket.“Twosnacks,somesterilegloves,apairofthumbforceps—”
“Ohmygod,”Imuttered.
“Wouldyoujustshutup?Iusethem,okay?”
Isettheforcepsonthetablewithameaningfulfrown.“Andthenyoukeeptheminyourpocket,apparently.”
Shepattedthethighpocketonherscrubs.“Afewmorepensandmynotesfortheday.”
“Fuckme,youreallydouseindexcards.”IshookmyheadasIscannedhernotes.Herhandwritingwassocuteandprecise.“Well,thisisadorable.”
Milanamadeanoise,somekindofswallowedsnort,butwavedusoffwhenweturnedourattentiontowardher.“Pardonme.Allergies.Pleasecontinue.”
“Regardlessofwhetheryourassessmentisappropriateornot,”Sarastarted,“thisismychoiceforhowImanagemywork.CouldIshowuptomorrowwithoutanyofthesethingsandstilldoagoodjob?Probably,yeah,butI’dgettiredofaskingtoborrowpensandI’dbeirritablewithoutsnacksonhand.Obviously,itdoesn’tbotheryoutoliftstethoscopesandpensandwhateverelseyouusefromyourresidents,butyou’renotgoingtoconvincemetoworkthatway.I’dlikeyoutonoticethatI’mnotaskingyoutoworkmyway.”
“Understood.”Iwentbacktoreadinghernotes.Shewassothoughtfulandprecise.Everycaseonadifferentcoloredcard.“I’dlikeyoutonoticethatyoufoundthislittlethingwedidhere”—IgesturedtothetablewhereI’dorganizedthedisemboweledcontentsofherpockets—”amusing.Somemightevensayfun.”
Shebusiedherselfwithunscrewingthecaponherwaterbottle.Itwasmintgreen,justliketheglassesinherapartment.Itdidn’tseemlikeshewasgoingtoanswer,then,“Yeah,Stremmel.Inoticed.”
Wesatthereamoment,noonesayingadamnwordwhileitseemedlikeIcouldhearmybloodvesselsdilatinginmyhead.Then,Isettledbackintomycornerofthesofaandwatchedherasshefixatedonthatwaterbottle.“Canyoujusttellmewhathappened?It’sstupidthatI’maskingandIrealizeIshouldn’tcare,butIwanttoknow.Iwanttounderstand.”
Sheranherindexfingeraroundthebaseofthemetalbottle.“Nothinghappened.”
“Everythinghappened,”Iwhispered.“Youknowit,Sara.Youknowit.IjustneedtoknowwhatIdidwrong.Ihavetoknow.”
“Youdidn’tdoanythingwrong.”Shegaveasingleshakeofherhead.“Youdidnothingwrong.”
“Then—why?”
Milanaleanedin,claspedherhandsbetweenherknees.I’dkindofforgottenabouther.Saracontinuedtracingthebottomofherbottle.Yeah,Icoulddefinitelyhearmyblood.Thosevesselsweregoingtofuckmeovertonight.Notawesome.
“Ijustneedsometime,”Sarasaid.“Iknowthat’snotwhatyouwanttohearbut”—shewavedahandatthecoffeetable—”weworkdifferently,Sebastian.Youdon’tneedanythingbutyourself.IneedallofthesethingsandIamstillamess.”Shetwirledafingertowardherhair,herglasses,andthet-shirtwithasetofcheckboxesthatreadEat,Sleep,Operate,Repeat.“LetmeworkthewayIknowhow.Okay?”
Igaveherajerkynod.“Yeah.Fine.”
Afteranotherunbearablesilence,Milanasaid,“Ourhourisup,myfriends.Iwanttothankyouforthetimeyou’vespentinthisspacewithme,aswellasthetimeyouputinoutsideourweeklyvisits.IknowneitherofyouchosetobeherethoughIwanttoapplaudthehonestywithwhichyouengagedweekafterweek.Iknowthisworkischallenging.Iknowitclimbsintoourdiscomfortsandshinesaspotlightonthem.AndIknowyou’vebothdevelopednewskillsandperspectivesasaresultofthosespotlights.Ihavenoconcernaboutsigningoffonthecompletionofyoursessionsandexpressingmysatisfactionwithyourprogress.Thatsaid”—sheglancedattheclock,gaveusawink—”thenexttimeIseeyoutwo,Ihopeit’snotonthesofa.”
***
WiththepassingofeachoftheseventeenhourssinceleavingMilana’sofficeattheendofourlastconflictresolutionsession—yes,Iwascounting—IgrewanincreasingappreciationforthefactSaraandIhadn’tcrossedpaths.We’dwalkedoutofthatoffice,turnedinoppositedirections,andhadn’tsaidadamnwordtoeachother.Definitelyhadn’tletherselfintomyapartmentandrubbedmyheadallnight.ButthatappreciationgrewalongsidemydreadbecausewewouldcrosspathsandIknewitwasgoingtofuckmeup.
I’dpreparedmyselftorunintoherinastairwellorbackinourbuilding,butatthesametime,Iwasn’treadyforthat.Iwasalsodyingfromtheinsideoutwithwantingtoseteyes(andhands)onher,butIwasn’tready.Itwasanunpleasantwaytoexist.Moreunpleasantthanmyusual.
ItwasmidmorningwhenIfoundmyselfwaitingforateamtoturnoveranOR.Nothingaboutthiswasunusual,notuntiltheChiefofSurgerybreezedoutofthatOR,BostonRedSoxscrubcapinhand,anddidadoubletakewhenhenoticedme.Thisreallywasn’tthedayforanyonetonoticeme.
“Stremmel!JustthemanI’vebeenlookingfor,”heboomed.“Weneedtogetsometimeonthecalendartoformalizeyourtransitionintotheemergencysurgerychiefrolenextyear.”
“Becausewe’redonewiththeconflictcounseling?”
“Thewhat?Oh,no,that’snothing.It’sbarelyaformality,”hesaid.“Thehoopswehavetojumpthroughthesedays.”
Imadeapointedglanceatmywatch.
“WhileIhaveyouhere,”hecontinued,oblivioustomyglaringdisinterestinthisconversation,“IneedyourthoughtsonDr.Shapiro.”
“Myfuckingwhat?”
Heheldhishandsout,shrugged.Ifhefoundmyreactiondisproportionate,itdidn’tshow.“I’veheardthroughpersonalchannelsthatshehasalucrativeofferinCalifornia.She’sheretostayaslongaswecankeepher,thoughIwantyouropinionofherwork.Youhavetoknowofherfather’sreputation—”
“I’mgoingtostopyourightthere.Hedoesn’tworkhere,andasfarasIknow,he’snotinterestedinmovinghispracticehere,soanyconversationabouthimorhisreputationrelativetoasurgeononstaffisawasteofmytime.”
“Isitawaste?Idon’tknow.That’swhyI’mseekingyouropiniononDr.Shapiro.Onpaper,she’sgreat,butthatdoesn’tmeanIshouldsendhigh-profilecasestoherorprioritizeherworkforgrants.What’syourtake,Stremmel?Issheanygood?”
“It’sprettystupidtoaskmethat,”Isaid.Thiswasthecurrencythatcamewithbeingtheguy.“She’sobviouslytalented.Anyonecanseethat.Sheknowshershit.Herworkiscleanandthorough.Herresidentsaresomeofthebesttrainedofanyspecialtyinthefacility.AcevedoandHartshornattendherskillslabsessionsonaregularbasisandIknowthey’renottheonlyattendingswhodothat.Afewrequireitfortheirresidents.Howdoesthatlookonpaper?Shehasnoproblemtakingonloudmouths,bullies,andassholeswhenpatientoutcomesareontheline,andfrankly,weneedalotmoreofthatseeingaswecan’tstoppopulatingourrankswithloudmouths,bullies,andassholes.Ofcourse,thisquestionisaloadofbullshitbecauseIdon’tknowthefirstthingabouttheplasticspractice,butIdoknowDr.Shapiroisfartooaccomplishedtoworkinaplacewhereherfather’sreputationprecedesanyconversationofherqualifications.Don’tletanyonehearyousayingthatshitagain.Theworlddoesn’tworkthatwaytodayandithasn’tinalongtime.You’regonnaageyourassrightoutofhereifyoukeepthatup.”Iglancedatmywatchagain.“Excuseme.”
Bymyestimation,IhadatleastsevenminutesuntilmyORwasreadyandthatwasplentyoftimetorunupanddownthestairsuntilIlostthedesiretopunchawall.Itseemedlikeagreatplan.
AllIhadtodowasexecuteoniteverydayfortherestofmylife.CHAPTER34SARA
Ididn’thaveahamoments.Notoften.
Icamearoundtoideasthewaypeoplewadedintoachillypool—justatoe,thenafoot,adoubtfuldipuptotheknees,inchingtowardthighsthoughnotreallywantingtodothat,then—finally—makingtheeventualconcessiontowaistdeep,allwhilestandingstifflywitharmsheldabovethesurface,teethgrittedwiththeconvictionthatgettingwetwasjustaterribleidea.
Somepeopleprobablycannonballedtheirwayintothosecoldpools,andthatwasfantasticforthem.Sofantastic.Ahapeoplerepresent.
Ineverwantedtogetwet.Idefinitelyheldmyarmsabovethewaterlongpastthepointofacclimation.EvenwhenIwasinit,Ineededextratimetoadjust.Therewasnothingmorevulnerablethanthrowingyourentireselfintoabodyofwater,andvulnerabilitywasfuckingscary.Ahamomentswerefuckingscary.Theyrequiredtrustingyourmindenoughtoletitleadtheway,andmymind—well,itwasfairtosaymyminddidn’thaveagoodtrackrecordofleadingmetowardthehealthiestpaths.
WhenitcametoSebastian,Irequiredalotofacclimation—andthenoneepicahamomentwhereIbelly-floppedintothewater,loudandpainfulandflailing,andgaveupallsemblanceofshieldingmyselffromtheriskofvulnerability.
Ihadtolettheahahappen,asmuchasIhatedit,asmuchasIresistedit.
ThatwaswhyIwassittingonthelandingoutsideSebastian’sapartment,furiouslytextingallofourfriends.
Sara:CanIaskyouguysforhelp?
Alex:Alwaysassumetheanswertothatisyes.
Nick:WhatEmmerlingsaid.
O’Rourke:I’mnotasusefulasthosetwo.I’dadvisestickingwiththem.
Alex:Pleasedon’tmakemeregretbeingnicetoyou,O’Rourke.
Sara:Okay.Heregoes.Stremmelshouldbeleavingthehospitalanyminutenow.IknowHartshornishavingeveryoneovertonight…andIneedyoutosendSebastianhome.Don’tlethimgo.Justsendhimstraighthome.Ihavetotalktohim.Itneedstobetodayanditneedstobeawayfromwork.
Alex:Wecouldtellhimthere’sgoingtobesleet.Hehatessleet.
Nick:Iwanttohelpyou,believeme,butIdon’tknowhowwe’resupposedtouninvitehimfromthepizzapartyatCalandStella’s.TheydothistheweekendbeforeThanksgivingeveryyear.It’sawholecollegefootballthing.Hefuckinglovesit.
Alex:Youjustdon’twanttobetheonetomakeStremmelcry.
O’Rourke:WasIinvitedtothisparty?
Nick:Couldyougrabhimatthehospitalinstead?
O’Rourke:Idon’tthinkIwasinvitedtothisparty.
Sara:Idon’twantthistohappenatthehospital.IknowitprobablyseemsridiculousandIknowI’maskingyouthreetojumpinthemiddleofthisforme,butIreallyneedtoseparateeverythingfromwork.
Alex:It’scool,Icantakeresponsibilityforhimcrying.Iactuallydon’tmindthatatall.
O’Rourke:SinceI’mnotinvited,amIoffthehookhere?
Alex:Listen,O’Rourke.You’reinvited.Hartshornisabsentmindedashell.Heforgetsthewholethinguntiladayortwobeforewhenhiswifeaskshowmanypizzastoorder.Thenhegoesaroundinvitingeveryonehesees.Ithappenseveryyear.Hiswifesendsoutabigtextwiththedetailsbutshedoesn’tknowyouanddoesn’thaveyournumber.You’reinvited.
Nick:Waitasecond,everyone.Shap,Iloveandtrustyou,butIdon’twantEeyorewanderingoffonhisownifthingsdon’tworkout.Eeyoreisokayonlybecausethegroupkeepshimontheradar.Ineedyoutotextmeifthistakesaturn.MywifewillkillmeifIlosetrackofEeyore.
Alex:Idon’tknowwhethertocackleoveryoucallinghimEeyoreortrytofigureoutwhetherI’mTiggerinthissetup.
Nick:Can’tgotherewithyouuntilI’vehadatleasttwobeers,Emmerling.
Alex:WhoisWinniethePooh?IsthatHartshorn?Ohmygod,it’sHartshorn.
Alex:AreyouPiglet?No.Thatdoesn’twork.AreyouChristopherRobin?
Alex:MaybeShapisPiglet.
Alex:No,thatdoesn’tworkeither.
Nick:ALEX.
O’Rourke:IguessI’mnotinthisuniverseatall.FundiscoveryforaFridayevening.
Alex:Sorry.I’lltakeonefortheteamandsendStremmelhometoyou,babe.Ifanyoneasks,weareplayingtheearinfectioncardtonight.We’llsayHartshorn’skidcan’tstayoverwiththegrandparentsbecauseshewantsmama,anddadisalsoapsychowhenitcomestotypicalpediatricconditions,andwe’rebumpingtherivalrygamedebateforanothernight.
Sara:That’sperfect.Thankyou.
Nick:Textme,Shap.
Sara:Iwill.Thankyouforyourhelp.IknowI’maskingalot.
Alex:You’renot.AcevedojustlikesgettingintoitwithStremmeloverfootball.Bigfeelsonbothsides.
Nick:MaybeyoutwocouldcomeovertoHartshorn’s.Afteryourconversationorwhateveryouneedtodo.
Alex:”whateveryouneedtodo”iscute.Verycute.I’morderingoneofthosewhitenoisemachinesnow.
Sara:Seriously,thankyouforeverything.
Alex:Stopthankingme!Iloveschemes.Letmegopullthisoneoff.
Theahawasn’tthatIwasfinallyreadytotalktoSebastian.I’dbeenreadysincelandinginBostonlastweekend,thoughI’dneededtimetomakethatreadyright.Theahacamethismorning,whenIoverheardtheworstconversationIcould’veeverstumbledinto.TheChiefwentaheadandunderminedthefuckoutofmyskills,myperformance,myoutcomes.HedidthethingIfearedthemost—heaskedwhetherIwasgoodenough.Heaskedasboldascouldbe,rightthereinthehallwithanyonewalkingby,andheaskedasurgeonwhoknewnothingofmypractice.
Exceptthatlastpartwasn’tcompletelytrue.
Sebastiancould’veblownoffthequestion.Atfirst,I’dthoughthewasdoingthat.Butthenhe’dleanedintoit.He’dansweredtheshitoutofthatquestion.Onceagain,he’dstoodupforme—andhediditwhileIwasholdinghimatacold,silentdistance.HediditwithoutknowingIwasstandingontheothersideofthatcornerandhediditwithoutdoubt.
Thatwastheaha.Thewild-limbedbellyflopthatslappedsohard,I’dnearlymissedmychancetoduckintoasupplyroomandpanicinprivate.Althoughitwasn’trealpanic.ItwasthekindofpanicwheremyheartwaspoundinginmythroatandIwasreadytorunamilewhilescreamingatthetopofmylungs,butIwasn’tafraidofanything.
Maybeithadn’tbeenpanicatall.Maybethatwashowitfelttowatchsomeoneloveyououtloud.
Anunmistakablestompsoundedthreefloorsbelow,followedbyamuttered,“Whateventhefuck?”
Ishovedmyphoneinmybagandsmoothedmyhandsovermyjeans.Ididn’thavetimetofutzwithmyhairorfixmyfaceoranything.AllIcoulddowassithere,justasIwas,andhopeitwasenough.
Hespottedmeseveralstepsfromthelanding,hisconfusionevidentintheblink,thepause.Then,“Pleasetellmeyou’reready.I’vehadtheworstfuckingdayandnowHartshorn’skidissicksowecan’thavepizzaandIreallywantedpizza.Andwhyareyousittingthere?Youletyourselfintheothernightandthenletyourselfthefuckout,butyou’resittingonthefloorlikeyou’renotamisguidedlittlecriminal?Ifyou’renotready,Sara,Ican’t—”
“Iheardwhatyousaidtoday.TotheChief,Iheard.”
Hearchedabrow.“Fromwho?”
“Fromyou.Iwasaroundthecorner.”Iranmyhandsdownmylegsagain.“Thankyou.”
“Don’tthankme.Notforthat.”
“That’sameanwaytotortureapeople-pleaser,”Isaidwithalaugh.
“Recoveringpeople-pleaser.”Heglanceddownthestaircase,thenbackatme.“Ifthat’swhyyou’rehere—”
“It’snot,”Isaid.“Ihadtobreakthecycle.”
Hedroppedahandtothebanister.“You—what?”
“Ihadtobreakthecycle,”Irepeated.“TheThursdaycycle.Ihadtostopit.”
“Whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout?”
“Wehadacycle,Sebastian.We’davoideachotheruntilThursday.Untilwegottogocrazyoneachother.Butthenitendedandwe’dstartitupalloveragain.Sometimeswe’dgetaweekendday,butmostlyitwasusbottlingupeverythingwehadandexplodingoneachothercomeThursday.”
Heshovedahandthroughhishair.“And…?”
“AndIhatedthatcycle.Butmorethanthat,Ididn’tthinkwe’devergetoutofit.Icouldn’tcomebackhereandslipbackintothatcyclewithyou.Ihadtoletthecycleburnitselfout.Ineededthistime.Ineededustofinishthatlastsessionwithoutanyshadowofachanceofusendingupinbedtogetherafter.Ineededustoleavethatentirelybehindus.Allofit.Iwantedtotalktoyouafterward,butIknewitwouldfeellikethesameoldThursdaythingandIneedyoutoknowthatIhaveabadhistorywithunhealthycycles.They’remymostharmfulcopingmechanism.Icanworkacompulsionsohard,Idon’tevenfeelthepainI’minflictinguponmyself.Okay?TheyscaretheshitoutofmebecauseIneverrealizeI’minthemuntilit’stoolate.Ineededtobreakthiscycle,evenifIhadtohurtyouforafewdays.”
“Youcould’vetoldmethat.”
“Icouldhave,”Iconceded.“ButittookmesometimetofigureoutwhatIneeded.Tobereallyterrifyinglyhonestwithyou,Ididn’tbelievethatyoucouldactuallywantmeifyoudidn’thaveallthatangertowardmetoburnoff.Ineededtoprovethatweweren’tgoingtocomebackhereandslipintotheoldpatternsagain,thatthethingwehadwasrealandnotaproductofthecycle.WhenThursdaycamearound,Ithoughtthatwe’dcarrythatlittledebateaboutthejunkIkeepinmypocketswithusandwe’dhavesomeangry,pocket-junk-fueledsex,andI’dneverbelievethatwhatwehaveisdifferentfromthat.Thatwe’renotaddictedtothedrama.Also,Iknewyou’dtellmenottoworryaboutit.”
Hescratchedthebackofhisneck.“Youdidn’tneedtoworryaboutit.”
“Maybenot,butIhadtoseethatformyself.”
Sebastiansettledontothelandingacrossfromme,hisbackagainstthewall.“Andnowthatyou’veseenit?Whathaveyoudecided?”
“I’verealizedthateventhoughwearechaos,oursmightbetherightkindofchaos.Itdoesn’thurtmethewayIthoughtitdid.Itdoesn’thurtmeatall.”
Henoddedtohimselfforamoment.“Whydidyoucomeheretheothernight?”
“BecauseO’RourketoldmehesentyouhomesickandIdidn’twantyoutobealone.”
“Whataboutprovingyourpoints?”
Ishrugged.“You’veneverletmebealoneandI’veneverforgottenit.Icamehere,youknow,thatnight.AftereverythingatAcevedo’s.IknewI’ddonesomethingwrongandIwantedtofixit.Youdidn’tanswerthedoor.”
“Iwasverybusybeingmadatyouthatnight.”
“Areyoubusybeingmadatmetonight?”
Heshookhishead.“No.I’mnotmad.I’mrelieved.Thisismyrestingrelievedface.”
“ImadeNick,Alex,andO’Rourkelieaboutthepizzapartybeingcanceled.It’snot.Hartshorn’skidisfine.IhadtogetyoualoneandIhadtodoitawayfromwork.Andeveryoneelse.”
“You—holdup.Youtalkedtopeople?Threepeople?Bychoice?”
Ihandedhimmyphone.“Seeforyourself.”
Heletoutamassivesigh,onethatshiftedintoanimpatientgrowl,ashereadthemessages.“Yousweetlittleliar.Ineedtogetavasectomy.”
“What?Howdidwegofrompizzatovasectomies?”
“Well,Imean,youdon’twantkidsandI’mfuckingold,sowhynot?”Hebandedonearmoverhischest,gesturedtomewiththeother.“IknowIsaidIdon’twanttogetmarried,butyoudoandthat’senoughreasonformetochangemymind.I’mgoodwithit.”
“Did—didyoujustpropose?Tome?Rightnow?”
“No,I’mjusttellingyouhowit’sgoingtobe,Sara.AndyouhavetoknowthatifyouwanttoleaveBoston,Iwillfindawaytopartwiththeturkeysandtheroadsandthecoffeecultand”—thejazzhandsreemerged—”theleavestogowithyou.You’regoingtohavetodealwiththat.”
“Okay.”IwassmilinginawaythatIcouldn’tstop.Itwasn’tachoice.“YoushouldknowIspecial-ordermostofmygroceriessothattheyarrivewithoutnutritionlabelsbecausethosethingstriggerdisorderedeatingforme.That’swhyIcan’thaveasmartwatch.WhyIcan’tknowhowmanystepsI’vewalkedoractivityringsI’veclosed.It’salreadyinmyhead,allofit,butIcan’tmakeitrealunlessIalsowanttomakemyselfsickagain,andI’lldoanythingintheworldtoavoidthat.Thesethings—theseissues—they’renotgoingtogoaway.”
“Doyouthinkyou’rescaringme?Comeon,Shap.Ifyouare,youneedtotryharder.”
Ireallydidn’twanttolaughatthattaunt,butIdid.“IwasseriouswhenIsaidIwantedtomoveoutofthisbuilding.It’sveryprettyandveryconvenient,butIamnotavoyeur.Ican’tlistenanymoreandIcan’tdealwiththeideaofthemlisteningtous.”
“I’mgoingwithyouwhenyoumove,”hesaid.“Planaccordingly.”
Ismileddownatmyhands.“Sothen,you’llwantaroomforwatchingcompetitivecheerleading.”
“Onlyifyou’reintherewithme.Iwanttheinsider’stakeonthings.”Sebastianbeckonedme.“Comehere.”
Iclosedthenarrowdistancebetweenuswithsomegracelesskneeshuffling.WhenIsettledonhislap,hisarmsloosearoundmywaist,Icontinued,“I’veneverletanyoneknowme.Notalltheway.”
Hegaveashakeofhishead.“NeitherhaveI.”
“Itscaresmetoopenup.”
“Itscaresmetofeelthings.Thisweekhasbeen…notgreat.”
Idroppedmyheadtohisshoulder.“I’msorry.”
“Yougotwhatyouneeded,”hesaid,hishandskatingupanddownmyback.“IcantakeafewdaysofmiseryifitmeansIgettowakeupwithyoutomorrowmorning.”
“Yougettodothat.”Ipulledinabreath.“Ifyouwanted,”Istartedslowly,“wecouldheadovertoHartshorn’s.I’mtoldyouhavestronglypositivefeelingsaboutcollegefootball.”
“Youdon’twanttogotothatparty,”hesaidwithalaugh.
“Actually,Ido—sortof—wanttostopby.Forabit.”WhenSebastianpressedhishandtomyforeheadandlookedmeoverlikeI’dlostmysenses,Iadded,“Ican’tdoitallthetimeandfoodisalwaysgoingtoberockyforme,butIkindoflikethesepeople.Idon’thateitwhenI’maroundthem.”
“YouknowIloveyou,right?”
“Idoknowthat,”Isaid.“Isawittoday.I’veseenitbefore,butIdidn’trecognizeituntiltoday.Ihadtobelly-flopintoit.”
“Ofcourseyoudid,youwickedlittleotter,”hesaid.
“Iloveyoutoo,”Iwhisperedagainsthisneck.
“Iknow,”hesaid.“Isawittheothernight.Andbeforethattoo.You’veneverhiditwell.”
“Shutup.Ihidemanythingsverywell.”
“Thenyoudidn’twanttohideit,”hesaid,hishandsslippingundermyshirt.“AsmuchasIenjoyarguingwithyouinstairwells,doyouthinkwecouldmovethistoabedroom?Perhapsacouch?”
“IhavetotextAcevedo.ShouldItellhimwe’recomingtothispizzaparty?”
“Ican’teventhinkaboutthatuntilafterIhugyouforawholefuckinghour.”
Ibrushedmyfingersthroughhishair.“Willtherebeanypizzaleftatthatpoint?”
“We’llordermoreandhaveitdelivered,”hesaid.“Weneedtomakesurethere’ssomethingforyou.”
IfoldedmylipstogetherasIblinkeddownatmyphone.
Sara:Sebastianiswithme.I’vegothim.EPILOGUESEBASTIAN
Itwascoldandrainy,thekindofweatherIhatedthoughitwasn’tsnowandIconsideredthatablessing.AfteralltheseyearsinBoston,Istillhadn’tfiguredouthowtocoexistwithsnow.
WetookacarservicetoHartshorn’shouseonthesuburbanfringeofthecity.CarservicebecauseIdidn’tseehowIcouldstoptouchingSaralongenoughtodrivewithoutwrecking.IhadacarthatIrarelydrove,parkedinagarageIthoughtaboutonlywhenitwastimetorenewthelease.Itwasoneofthestranger,moreexpensiveaspectsoflivinginthiscity.
ShroudedinthedarknessofthebackseatwithSaratuckedintomyside,lifewasn’ttoomiserable.Evenwiththecoldrain,Icouldn’tbemiserableafterplayingalittlegameIlikedtocallwe’lltakeaquicknap
Therehadbeennonapping.MorelikefiveminutesofletmeholdyoufollowedbyI’mgoingtowritemynamealloveryouinsideandoutandthenthirtyminutesofdrowsinganddebatingwhetherwewantedtogetup,getdressed,getovertoHartshorn’s.
“Wedon’thavetostaylong,”Isaidtoher.
Shebobbedherhead.“Iknow.”
Iwantedtoshowherofftonight.Standinfrontofallofourfriends,loopmyarmaroundherwaist,say,“Doyousee?Thisone’smine.”Atthesametime,Iwantedtobarricadeusbehindlockeddoorsandundercozyblankets,pressherhandtomychest,andsay,“Doyousee?Thisone’syours.”
Wepulleduptoalarge,brightlylitcolonialhouse.CarswithMDplateslinedthestreet.Saraglancedattheneighboringhomesasshezippedhercoat.“Thisisanicearea,”shesaid.
Igrabbedherhandaswehustledtowardthefrontdoor,ourheadsduckeddowntoavoidtherain.Westillgotwet.Itgaveherareasontobrushthedropletsfrommyhairanditgavemeareasontokisstheraindropsfromhercheeks.
“I’mnotgreatatbeingthecenterofattention,”Sarasaid.“Ijustwanttosaythatoutloudbeforewegoinsideandpeoplewillmakeusthecenterofattention.Forafewminutes,atleast.”
“Iknow,”Imurmured,herhandinsidebothofmine.“Ihavethiscovered.”
Shesawedherteethoverherlowerlip.Icouldfeelherthinking.“Okay.”
“You’resure?”
Afterapausewhereshenoddedtoherself,bitthatbottomlip,andsqueezedmyhand,shesaid,“Yes.”
Wetradedshygrinsbeforepressingthedoorbell.Stella,dressedinaClemsonjerseyandjeans,openedthedooralmostimmediately.“Youmadeit!Bothofyou!”Notpausinglongenoughforustosaymuchofanything,Stellaherdedusinside,callingtoherhusband,“Cal!Stremmel’shereandhebroughtShapirowithhim!”
IhelpedSaraoutofhercoatasthedoorbellrangagain.Stellashooedustowardthekitchenandfamilyroomasshereturnedtothedoor.IranahanddownSara’sback,asmuchforherasitwasforme.“Thissweater,”Isaidundermybreath.“Itpleasesme.”
Thatwasenoughtoshakealaughfromher.Thatlaughwasenoughtomakemedropakisshighonhercheek.“Whendidyougetsoobsessedwithmysweaters?”
“AroundthetimeIstartedwonderingwhetheryouwearunderwearwithyourscrubs.”
“Andwhenwasthat?”
“Lessrecentlythanyou’dthink.”Iglancedather.“Doyou?”
Shegavemethathunter’sgrin,theonethatpromisedshe’dkillmequickly.“You’llhavetofindthatoutforyourself.”
Westeppedintothekitchentofindourfriendsmillingaround,adozendecimatedpizzasliningthelongcenterisland.IttookasecondforthemtonoticeusandanothersecondforthemtonoticethenarrowdistancebetweenmeandSara.
Calapproachedus,abeerbottleinhandandanOregonjerseystretchedacrosshischest.Heglancedatus,halfasmilepullingathislips.“Okay.Allright.Thisisnew.It’sinteresting.NotmyplacetocommentsoI’lljusttellyouthereisn’tmuchpizzaleft,”hesaid.“Butwecanorderacouplemore.”
“Alreadydid,”Isaid.“Shouldbehereanyminute.”
Thedoorbellrangagain.Ipointedovermyshoulder.
“Cal?”Stellacalled.“Didyouordermorepizza?”
“Thenallowmetogetyouabeer,sir,”hesaidtome.ToSara,headded,“Wehavebeer,wine,somecrazyeggnogmartinithingEmmerling’shusbandmade,andallthesoftstufftoo.What’syourpleasure,Dr.Shapiro?”
“Water,”shesaid,hergazeshiftingasourfriendsclosedinaroundus.“Thankyou.”
ErinsteppedupwhenHartshornlefttofetchthosedrinks.Shelookedusoverwithacareful,appraisingglance.“Thisisgood,”shesaideventually.“Itseemsmystorieshaveworkedonbothofyou.”
IpeeredatSarawhenErinmovedtojoinNicknearthepizzas.“YougotanErinWalshstory?”
Hershouldersshookwithaquietlaugh.“Oh,yeah.Confusedthehelloutofme.”
“That’showit’ssupposedtobe,”Itoldher.
NickpointedatSarafromtheothersideoftheisland.“Thankyouforthetext,”hecalled.“Gladthisworkedout.”
SaraattemptedtorespondbutAlexboundedoverandgatheredherupinahug.“Iloveschemingwithyou,”Alexsaid.
“I’mnevertrustinganotherwordoutofyourmouth,”IsaidtoAlex.“ThatstoryyoutoldmeaboutHartshorn’skid?Insane.”IglanceddownatSara.“Youshould’veheardit.Thelevelofdetail—itwaslikeacasestudy.ItwaslikeIwasstudyingforpracticalexamsagain.”
Sarashrugged.“Hadtobedone.”
“Next,you’llhelpmewithmyschemes,”Alexsaid.“Ihavesomanyideas,Shap.”
RileypluckedhiswifeawayfromSara,saying,“Okay,drunkgirl.Comealong.”
Foronce,hedidn’tshootmeanydeathglares.Asubtleside-eye,yes,butnodeathglare.
O’Rourkecamebearingbeerandwater,anddistributedbothtous.“Hereyougo.Good.NowIcantellyouthatneitherofyouknowhowtobelow-keyaboutadamnthing.Thenexttimeyouwanttopullastuntliketheoneyou’vefumbledthroughforthepasttwomonths,pleasesedateme.”
Istaredatmyfellowforalongmoment.Ididnotunderstandthisguy’sbrainbutIadmiredthehelloutofit.Then,Iclappedhimontheshoulder,saying,“Iprobablywon’t.You’retoousefulwhenyou’renotdodgingpages.”
“Figuredasmuch,”hegrumbled.Heglancedattheisland,watchingwhileStellaconsolidatedtheremainsoftheoriginalpizzasandspreadoutthesecondwave.“Sincefreefoodismylovelanguage,I’mgonnaneedtointroducemyselftothosepies.”
O’RourkegrabbedaslicewitheachhandandthenploppeddownonalargesectionalsofabetweenNickandRiley.Heseemedimmunetothecuriousstarestheygavehim.
“So,that’sit,”Sarasaid.“That’severyone.”
Islippedahandintoherbackpocket,steeredhertowardtheisland.“Let’sgetyoufed.You’llwantthatforthenextpart.”
“What’sthenextpart?”
“It’sabloodthirstydebateoftheThanksgivingweekendcollegefootballrivalrygames,”Isaid,gesturingtothewhiteboardproppedupinfrontofthefireplace.“Thisstartedasaconversationoverlunchafewyearsback.Whichwasthebestrivalrygame?Whichteamslookedstrongestthatyear?Itspiraledoutofcontrol.Now,wegettogetherandyellaboutitoverbeerandpizza.”Ituckedsomehairbehindherear.“TheUSC-UCLArivalryisoneofthemostnotorious.”
“Asitshouldbe.”Shereachedforaplate,atartlittlegrinonherface.“Seemswe’llbeatoddsonceagain.”
Ispentalotoftimethinkingaboutobscurethings.Thinkingabouteverythinginsidemeandalsoeverythingoutsideme.Inthatendlessvolumeofmentalwork,I’dneveronceputthoughtintowhatitmeanttochoosesomeoneformyself.Topluckheroutoftherushofpeoplewhobuzzedpastmeeverydayandsay,“I’dliketokeepyou.”
AndhereIwas,standinginHartshorn’skitchenwithanemptyplateinmyhandandthatwoman’ssmilecallingupmyown.Icouldn’thelpit.Icouldn’t
AllIknewwasthatIlovedherandIlovedwhoIwaswhenIwaswithher.ItwasagiftthatIwasallowedtochooseher,toconvincehertochooseme,andoneofthesedays,we’dcementthatchoicewithsomelegalglue.
Ididn’tthinkIwaslanguishinganymore.
***
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CoastalElite—JordanandApril
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USATodayBestsellerKateCanterbarywritessmart,steamycontemporaryromancesloadedwithheat,heart,andhappyeverafters.KatelivesontheNewEnglandcoastwithherhusbandanddaughter.
YoucanfindKateatwww.katecanterbary.comACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Aswithjustaboutanythinginthe2020s,thisbookwasachallenge.I’dbrazenlyannouncedinDecemberof2019thatSebastianStremmelwouldgethishappyeverafterin2020…andthen2020happenedanditwasnotpossibleformetothinkabouthealthcareworkerswithoutasignificantamountofrealanxiety.
Theyearthatwas2020requiredmetolearnhowtowritealloveragain.Writinghadalwaysbeenasolitaryjourneyforme,butupuntilthen,I’dtakenthatjourneyinbustlingcoffeeshopsandbakeriesaroundthecity.Iwrotebookswithpeoplearoundandnoiseinmyhead.
UntilIcouldn’tdothatanymore.
Sebastianhasbeeninmyheadsince2017,whenhefirstappearedinBeforeGirlandthenPreservationandThresholds.Ioftenjokedthathespenthisdaysfloppedonthefloorinmyoffice,grousingabouttheworld.Andthatwastrue—hisconstantmoodinessneverleft,evenwhenIcouldn’tbringmyselftothinkaboutwritinglifeinsideahospital.Withthatinmind,Iwanttoacknowledge(again,always)thatwhiletonsofresearchgoesintogettingthedetailsright,someofthosedetailsdogetsmootheddownandshavedoffalongtheway.Themosttechnicallycorrectbookaboutsurgeonsandlifeinhospitalsisn’talwaysthemostreadableorenjoyable.Tothoseofyouwhoknowthehealthcarelifeintimately,Iapologizeforspotsthatstickouttoyou.
Sara,however,hasbeeninmyheadmuchlonger.ShereceivedonlypassingmentioninBeforeGirlandtheslightestofappearancesinTheMagnoliaChronicles,butherhearthasbeenwithmeforages.Iwaitedalongtimetounderstandherwellenoughtowriteher,andtothatend,Iwanttoacknowledgethathersisonlyonestory.Itisnottheonlystoryofrecoveringfromdisorderedeatingand/oranunstableupbringing.NoteveryonewhoexperiencesbulimiawillalsoexperiencelifelonggastricdisordersandthosewhodoexperiencegastricdisordersmightnotexperiencethemasSaradid.
Finally,Ihavetothankmyhusbandandmydearestfriends.Theyknowwhatthey’vedone.
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